"Worship  of 
(Tke  Golden  Calf. 


A   Story   of 
\V  age-Slavery 
m  Massachusefts. 


Cliarles  Sheldon   French. 


DALTON,  MASS.: 

C.  Sheldon  French,  Publisher. 

35  John  Street. 


PITTSFIELD.  MASS.: 

William  J.  Oatman,  Printer. 

536  North  Street. 

1908. 


• 


COPYRIGHT, 

1908, 
BY  CHARLES  SHELDON  FRENCH. 


NOTE.— Since  Chapter  VIII  was  written  Massa 
chusetts  law  has  been  so  amended  that 
$10,000,  instead  of  $5,000,  may  now  be 
c  ollected  for  a  human  life  lost  through 
the  negligence  of  a  railroad  or  street 
railway  corporation. 


M126786 


CHAPTER  I. 

snows  had  begun  to  disappear 
JL  from  the  far-famed  valleys  of 
Berkshire;  the  mountain-tops  and  slopes 
were  still  white;  in  the  softening  air  was 
the  promise  of  the  return  of  birds  and 
flowers;  Nature  was  relenting  from  her 
winter  harshness,  but  man  was  less 
kindly  than  Nature. 

On  Beauna  Vista,  one  of  the  hillocks 
rising  slightly  above  the  level  of  the 
Housatonic  Valley,  the  day's  work  was 
done,  and  John  Wycliff ,  a  farm-laborer, 
was  awaiting  the  pay  for  his  last  month's 
work  before  returning  home. 

There  was  nothing  prepossessing  about 
Wy cliff's  appearance.  Short  of  stature, 
minus  one  eye  which  he  had  lost  in  an 
encounter  with  the  Indians,  with  a  bent 
nose,  a  souvenir  of  a  cattle-stampede  on 
the  plains, — he  was  tough  and  wiry  as  a 
lynx,  and  his  features  betrayed  almost 
as  little  emotion  as  that  animal. 

His  experience  had  been  largely  of  a 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

kind  to  make  him  suspicious  of  his  fel 
lows,  and  alert  for  self-defence.  He  had 
knocked  about  tho  East  in  a  variety  of 
occupations,  and  in  the  West  had  been 
editor,  cow-boy  and  gold-miner.  He  had 
seen  varying  fortunes,  having  been 
once  part  owner  of  a  gold  mine.  He  had 
lost  all  and  was  now  a  common  laborer 
again.  Although  he  still  retained  his  in 
terest  in  the  mine,  it  was  considered 
worthless.  He  had  hopes  that  sometime 
it  might  become  valuable  again  through 
the  invention  of  cheaper  methods  of  sep 
arating  the  gold  from  the  rock. 

Jacob  Sharp,  the  farm-superintendent, 
was,  in  appearance,  a  typical  Yankee. 
He  was  tall  and  angular,  with  blue  eyes, 
which  sometimes  kindled  with  a  kindly 
light,  but  which  oftener  showed  a  steely 
luster  suggesting  something  of  the  ser 
pent.  The  nose  was  the  most  prominent 
feature.  It  was  large  and  sharply  de 
fined,  and  he  had  a  habit,  when  excited, 
of  blowing  it  vigorously. 

On  this  occasion  a  trumpet-like  blast 
first  warned  John  Wycliff  that  Boss  Sharp 

6 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

had  something  on  his  mind.  He  blew 
his  nose  loudly  several  times,  while  the 
blue  eyes  seemed  to  retreat  more  deeply 
into  their  sockets  and  to  give  out  a  snaky 
leer.  After  an  unusually  loud  blast, 
which  testified  to  the  healthy  condition 
of  his  lungs,  he  pulled  some  bank-notes 
from  his  pocket. 

'  'Twenty-five  dollars, "  he  said,  hand 
ing  the  notes  to  Wy cliff.  '  'I  have  re 
tained  five  dollars  for  Mr.  Bothan  on  the 
bill  which  you  owe  him/' 

''But  you  agreed  to  pay  me  thirty-five 
dollars  per  month,"  replied  Wy  cliff." 
'  'I  am  very  poorly  situated  at  this  time 
for  losing  any  part  of  my  earnings.  I 
should  be  glad  to  pay  all  my  debts  in  full 
at  once,  but  at  present  my  wages  will 
barely  supply  the  necessities  of  life  for 
my  family."  Then,  turning  to  Mr. 
Bothan,  who  stood  near  by,  he  contin 
ued,  "Both  law  and  gospel  make  it  a 
man's  first  duty  to  provide  for  his  fam 
ily.  Besides,  you  should  have  no  prefer 
ence  over  my  other  creditors. ' ' 

But  the  words  were  wasted.      Wycliff 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

might  as  well  have  appealed  to  the  flint 
boulders  on  the  mountain  side.  Sharp 
insisted  that  he  had  agreed  to  pay  him 
only  thirty  dollars  per  month,  and  he 
also  insisted  on  paying  five  dollars  of  that 
sum  to  Richard  Bothan  on  Wy cliff's  debt. 
He  even  threatened  to  discharge  Wycliff 
if  the  latter  should  take  advantage  of  the 
Bankruptcy  Law  and  thus  place  Mr. 
Bothan  on  a  level  with  other  creditors. 
Wycliff  received  twenty-five  dollars  and 
walked  away. 

Mr.  Sharp  then  passed  a  five  dollar 
note  to  Mr.  Bothan,  who  returned  him 
one  of  smaller  denomination  with  the  re 
mark,  *  'Here's  a  dollar  for  collecting." 

The  men  then  separated,  unconscious 
that  there  had  been  any  witness  of  their 
conversation.  Only  a  few  steps  distant, 
where  a  rustic  watering-trough  was  hid 
den  from  sight  by  a  clump  of  low  hem 
lock  bushes,  two  horseback-riders,  a  lady 
and  a  gentleman,  had  paused  to  let  their 
horses  drink. 

''What  a  spectacle  that  is!"  exclaimed 
the  gentleman;  Congressman  Baldwin, 

8 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

one  of  the  owners  of  this  farm,  belongs 
to  the  national  legislative  body  which 
passed  the  Bankruptcy  Law,  and  here  we 
see  his  foreman  threatening  to  discharge 
a  workman  for  accepting  the  benefits  of 
that  law.  The  law  is  designed  to  relieve 
those  who  are  unable  to  pay  their  debts. 
Congressman  Baldwin  is  sworn  to  up 
hold  the  law.  His  foreman,  Jacob  Sharp, 
is  doing  his  best,  in  this  instance,  to  de 
stroy  the  law.  I  don't  believe  David 
Baldwin,  the  Congressman,  would  feel 
very  proud  of  his  foreman  if  he  wit 
nessed  this  scene." 

'  'Would  his  brother  and  partner, 
Zechariah  Baldwin,  approve  of  it?"  asked 
the  lady. 

'1  cannot  say,"  replied  the  gentle 
man.  '  'Zechariah  Baldwin  has  less  sense 
of  justice  or  love  for  his  workmen  than 
his  brother  David.  But  this  is  a  mean  act, 
at  any  rate.  Mr.  Sharp  has  no  moral  or 
legal  rights  to  withhold  the  workman's 
wages  and  it  is  contemptible  at  this  time, 
because  Mr.  Wycliff  has  a  child  very  sick 
and  needs  every  dollar  he  can  earn.  I 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

am  surprised  that  such  a  man  as  Sharp, 
who  is  notorious  for  cheating  his  work 
men,  should  hold  so  high  a  position  in 
the  church. " 

"It  is  much  easier  to  criticise  the 
church  than  to  help  in  the  good  work 
which  the  church  is  doing,"  answered 
the  lady  tartly. 

'  'We  have  a  right  to  criticise  the  church 
if  she  fails  to  take  up  the  work  which 
the  Master  left  for  her  to  do  ;"  replied 
the  gentleman,  but  the  lady  was  offend 
ed,  and  the  remainder  of  the  journey 
was  passed  in  silence. 

Meanwhile  John  Wycliff  found  little  to 
comfort  him  on  his  return  home. 

"Robert  has  been  growing  worse  all 
day  ';"  were  the  first  words  of  his  wife  : 
'  'The  Doctor  gives  very  little  encourage 
ment.  He  says  that  to-night  will  decide 
and  that  he  is  so  frail  and  sensitive  that 
we  must  gratify  all  his  whims.  What 
ever  he  wants  we  must  promise  to  get  it 
for  him.  The  Doctor  says  we  must  not 
cross  him  the  least  bit  in  any  of  his 
wishes." 

10 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

The  wife  and  mother— a  slight,  sensi 
tive  thing  —  dropped  upon  her  knees, 
buried  her  face  in  the  bed-clothes,  and 
prayed  for  her  son  in  words  which  reached 
no  ear  but  the  Almighty's.  Then  she 
lay  down  upon  a  couch,  exhausted  by 
days  and  nights  of  watching. 

The  mother  slept.  The  boy  lay  for  the 
most  part  quietly,  his  spirit  fluttering  as 
lightly  as  a  butterfly's  wing  between  life 
and  death.  The  father  sat  beside  the 
crib  where  his  child  lay,  and  watched 
his  every  movement,  bending  down  fre 
quently  and  placing  his  ear  close  to  the 
little  sufferer's  face,  to  learn  if  he  were 
still  breathing.  Once  he  woke  his  wife 
hurriedly,  thinking  that  the  end  had 
come.  But  life  still  lingered. 

There  was  a  distant  rumble  of  wheels. 
John  Wycliff  recognized  the  sound  of 
that  vehicle,  and  it  made  him  for  the 
moment  desperate  Some  of  the  rough 
points  of  his  Western  life  had  ingrained 
themselves  in  his  nature,  and  one  char 
acteristic  memento  of  that  strenuous 
time  was  at  hand  in  a  bureau-drawer. 

11 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

He  glanced  at  his  wife.  She  was  in  a 
sound  sleep.  He  bent  down  and  eaught 
the  sound  of  the  boy's  breathing.  Then 
he  sprang  to  the  bureau  and  rushed,  coat- 
less  and  hatless,  into  the  street. 

Jacob  Sharp  was  alone  on  his  way  to 
the  mid-weekly  evening  prayer  meeting. 
When  he  came  into  the  shaft  of  light 
thrown  from  the  sick-room  window,  his 
horse  was  grasped  by  the  bridle,  while  a 
low  voice  said  :  '  Tay  me  the  wages  you 
defrauded  me  of  !"  and  a  pistol  gleamed 
in  Sharp's  face. 

' 'Be  quick!"  the  voice  added,  as  Mr. 
Sharp's  right  hand  went  up,  as  was  his 
habit  when  excited,  to  blow  his  nose. 
The  hand  dropped  quickly  to  his  pocket, 
and  a  ten-dollar  note  was  handed  over. 

"Take  legal  action  about  this  if  you 
choose,  Mr.  Sharp,"  said  Wy cliff.  "I 
can  land  you  in  prison  and  for  more  than 
one  offense." 

"Say  nothing,  and  I  will  say  noth 
ing  ;"  replied  Sharp  as  he  drove  on. 
Wycliff's  challenge  uncovered  a  chapter 
in  Sharp's  history  which  he  had  fancied 

12 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

covered  up  and  which  he  did  not  wish 
exposed.  This  adventure  filled  only  a 
very  brief  time,  and  again  Wycliff  was 
by  the  bedside. 

The  little  lips  moved  feebly.  He  placed 
his  ear  close  to  them. 

"Pop — will  I — have— pony— cart— hea 
ven  ?" 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  he 
gathered  the  words.  Heaven !  What 
did  he  know  about  heaven  ?  What  did 
he  care  about  it  if  such  men  as  Jacob 
Sharp  and  Richard  Bothan  were  its  rep 
resentatives  here  on  earth  ?  But  he  an 
swered  instantly,  recalling  the  doctor's 
warning,  and  bending  close  to  the  child's 
ear : 

"Yes,  you  will  have  everything  you 
want  there." 

And  then,  very  slowly  and  very  feebly 
—so  slowly  and  so  feebly  that  his  coarse 
senses  could  hardly  be  sure  of  the  scarcely 
whispered  words — came  the  question  : 

'  Top — will  I — ever — have — pony — cart 
-here?" 

There  was  but  an  instant's  hesitation, 

13 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

as  the  father  recalled  his  inability  to  ful 
fil  his  promise,  and  he  replied,  watching 
his  child's  face  as  the  fluttering  spirit 
caught  the  meaning : 

'  'Yes,  Robbie,  if  you  will  stay  with  us 
you  shall  have  a  pony  and  a  cart. ' ' 

This  had  been  the  height  of  the  child's 
desire,  his  highest  idea  of  happiness,  his 
heaven — to  have  a  pony  and  a  cart.  In 
sight  of  the  other  shore,  and  with  voices, 
perhaps,  which  his  father's  coarse  ear 
could  not  hear,  calling  him  thither,  he 
was  willing  to  stay  on  this  side  if  his  de 
sire  might  be  gratified. 

The  father  thought  he  saw  the  slight 
est  trace  of  a  smile  on  the  thin  face.  The 
boy  slept.  More  than  once  there  were 
brief  intervals  when  the  father  could  not 
detect  his  son's  breathing,  but  as  the 
hours  wore  away  there  seemed  to  be  a 
gain. 

Meanwhile  the  father's  memory  was 
busy.  As  a  lightning-flash,  in  the  night, 
for  an  instant  illuminates  the  entire  land 
scape,  so  his  son's  question  flashed  his 
whole  life  in  review  before  him.  He  re- 

14 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

called  the  day,  when,  with  high  ideals, 
he  had  pledged  himself  to  Christ  in  the 
little  country  meeting-house,  and  the 
church  had  pledged  friendship  to  him. 
Later  some  of  these  comrades  in  the 
church  had  defrauded  him  of  all  he  pos 
sessed.  To-day  the  worst  enemies  of 
himself  and  of  every  other  workingman 
in  the  town  of  Papyrus,  were  pillars  in 
the  fashionable  church  of  that  place. 
These  things  stood  out  in  bold  relief  to 
night,  as  bold  as  the  mountain's  rugged 
outline  when  the  lightning's  flash  illu 
mines  it. 

"The  First  Church  of  Papyrus,  "Wy- 
cliff  had  once  said  to  Deacon  Surface, 
"does  not  stand  for  righteousness.  It 
will  whitewash  any  wrong  done  by  its 
wealthy  members.  Our  pastor  is  elo 
quent  in  condemning  the  disfranchise- 
ment  of  the  negroes  of  the  South,  but 
does  not  say  one  word  to  condemn  the 
disfranchisement  of  mill-hands  in  Papy 
rus.  Employees  in  the  Baldwin  Mills  are 
prevented  from  voting  appropriations  for 
schools,  roads,  street-lights,  and  other 

15 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

public  benefits  in  their  own  town.  To 
be  consistent,  you  should  place  the  sign 
of  the  Almighty  Dollar  on  the  pinnacle 
of  your  beautiful  church,  and  inscribe 
over  the  altar  these  words  :  The  rich  can 
do  no  wrong/  '  f 

Deacon  Surface,  who  belonged,  body 
and  soul  to  the  Baldwins,  had  been  hor 
rified  at  Wycliff ,  whom  he  regarded  as 
little  better  than  an  infidel.  Wycliff  re 
garded  Deacon  Surface  and  his  kind,  as 
followers  of  the  Master  only  for  the 
'loaves  and  fishes.' 

But  the  night  wore  away.  The  boy 
was  better.  The  mother  was  worn  out, 
and  Wycliff  remained  at  home  to  care  for 
his  wife  and  child. 

Jacob  Sharp  was  an  early  caller. 

"Your  position  will  be  open  to  you,  at 
thirty-five  dollars  per  month,  whenever 
you  can  come  back  ;"  he  said. 

But  Wycliff  was  never  to  return. 


16 


CHAPTER  II. 

afternoon,  Mr.  Moriarty." 
It  was  Deacon  Surface  who 
spoke,  a  gentleman  who  owed  such  in 
fluence  as  he  possessed  to  the  fact  that 
he  was  an  agent  of  the  Baldwins,  col 
lecting  their  rents,  superintending  in  a 
general  way  some  of  their  enterprises, 
and  administering  their  local  charities. 

He  was  a  man  of  excellent  intentions, 
but  shallow.  One  of  his  best  friends 
thus  described  him  :— '  'The  Deacon  has 
as  many  sides  as  a  barrel.  He  doesn't 
want  to  make  any  enemies,  but  when  he 
is  cornered,  he  will  roll  toward  the  money 
every  time.  If  the  Deacon  were  a  judge, 
and  a  man  were  brought  before  him 
charged  with  stealing  one  hundred  dol 
lars,  and  the  charge  were  proved,  he 
would  order  the  money  divided  equally 
between  the  thief  and  his  victim.  That 
is  just  about  his  idea  of  justice." 

The  Deacon's  critics,  if  put  in  his 
place,  would  perhaps  do  no  better  than 

17 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

he.  Being  the  personal  and  confidential 
agent  of  the  Baldwins,  he  must  accept 
their  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  adopt 
their  conscience,  as  it  were,  or  else  sur 
render  a  fat  job  such  as  seldom  comes 
to  a  man  of  common  ability. 

"The  top  of  the  afternoon  to  you!*' 
replied  the  Irishman  addressed,  whose 
traits  were  quite  different  from  the  Dea 
con's. 

"Of  course  you  are  going  to  vote  for 
Jacob  Sharp  for  Selectman,"  remarked 
the  Deacon. 

"The  divil  a  bit  will  I  vote  for  Jake 
Sharp  for  any  office,  Deacon  Surface." 

'  Indeed,  Mr.  Sharp  is  a  fine  Christian 
gentleman. ' ' 

'  'Do  yez  call  the  likes  of  old  Jake  Sharp, 
the  slave-driver,  a  fine  Christian  gentle 
man?  A  liar,  a  thief,  and  a  murderer 
is  what  he  is." 

Good  Deacon  Surface  was  shocked. 

'  'Those  are  pretty  hard  names  to  ap 
ply  to  a  neighbor,  Mr.  Moriarty.  I  think 
you  would  find  it  very  difficult  to  prove 
that  Mr.  Sharp  is  what  you  call  him." 

18 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"Indade  I  would  not,"  replied  the  in 
dignant  son  of  Erin.  "A  liar  ?  Did  he 
ever  pay  a  man  the  wages  he  agreed  to  ? 
Not  if  he  could  help  it.  Didn't  young 
Mike  Silk  knock  him  down  flat  in  his 
tracks  before  Old  Sharp  could  remem 
ber  that  he  promised  to  pay  him  two 
dollars  a  day  in  haying?  He  remem 
bered  it  all  right  after  Mike  flattened 
him.  Oh,  it's  a  bad  memory  he  has, 
all  right. 

"A  thief?  Sure  it's  yourself  he  was 
after  st'aling  a  shovel  from.  And  sure 
it's  your  own  memory  needs  bracing  up, 
too.  It's  your  own  shovel  he  was  st'al 
ing,  whittling  oft0  your  name  and  brand 
ing  on  his  own  with  a  red-hot  iron.  For 
got  all  about  it,  have  yez?  Do  yez  for 
get  the  time  when  he  stole  his  own 
daughter's  money,  that  he  was  guardian 
for,  and  lost  it,  and  the  poor  girl  was 
nigh  going  crazy  over  it?  It's  surely  a 
poor  memory  ye  has,  Deacon  Surface. 

"A  murderer?  I  haven't  forgotten 
the  day  when  he  hurried  young  Pat 
Flynn  in  the  hay-fleld  till  the  poor  fel- 

19 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

low  dropped  dead  by  the  side  of  me  with 
sun-stroke.  I  niver  shall  forget  it  in  this 
world.  And  when  David  Baldwin,  the 
Congressman,  asked  Sharp  why  did  he 
hurry  the  lad  such  a  hot  day,  wasn't  the 
old  villain  after  saying  it  was  liquor  that 
killed  him?  And  the  poor  lad  never 
tasted  liquor.  If  that  wasn't  murder, 
what  would  yez  call  it?  An  awful  poor 
memory  yez  have,  all  at  once,  Deacon 
Surface. 

"And  ye've  forgot,  too,  how  old  Sharp 
sold  the  diseased  meat  in  the  city,  haven't 
yez?  Ye've  forgot  intirely  how  two  chil 
dren  were  killed  by  that  same  meat,  so 
the  doctors  said?  And  that  is  what  yez 
call  a  fine  Christian  gentleman  in  the 
First  Church,  is  it?" 

"But  the  meat  charge  was  never 
proved,"  protested  Deacon  Surface. 

"And  it's  yerself  knows  as  well  as 
anybody  why  it  wasn't  proved — because 
Zach  Baldwin  wanted  it  hushed  up.  It 
can  be  proved  to-day  if  John  Wy cliff  and 
meself,  and  one  other  man  I  could  name, 
were  called  as  witnesses." 

20 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Deacon  Surface  realized  that  he  was 
not  gaining  ground,  and  changed  his 
tactics. 

'  'You  had  work  on  Congressman  Bald 
win's  new  streets  at  Maple  Heights,  last 
fall,  did  you  not?" 

"Indade  I  did,  and  I  earned  ivery  cint 
I  got,  too,  so  I  did,  Deacon  Surface. ' ' 

1  'But  there  will  be  no  work  at  Maple 
Heights  this  year  unless  Mr.  Sharp  is 
elected  Selectman." 

"Maple  Heights  may  go  to  Perdition. 
I'll  not  vote  for  old  Jake  Sharp  if  I  niver 
get  another  day's  work  from  the  Bald 
wins.  The  likes  of  yerself  cannot  drive 
Dave  Moriarty  one  inch.  Ye  may  stand 
there  and  threaten  till  doomsday.  I'll 
not  vote  for  that  slave-driver,  Sharp. 
He  ought  to  be  behind  the  bars." 

Deacon  Surface  moved  on,  to  appeal 
to  workmen  who  would  "hear  to  rea 
son,"  as  he  expressed  it. 

As  for  David  Moriarty,  he  hurried  over 
to  his  neighbor,  John  Wycliff ,  to  tell  him 
of  this  latest  game  of  the  Baldwins.  He 
had  barely  left  Wycliff 's,  to  return,  when 

21 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Hugh  Maxwell  called  to  see  John  Wy cliff. 

This  gentleman  was  fully  as  easy  and 
gracious  in  his  manner,  fully  as  well 
qualified  to  get  through  the  world  with 
out  provoking  opposition,  as  Deacon  Sur 
face  ;  but,  unlike  the  Deacon,  he  had  to 
depend  upon  his  own  resources,  with  no 
millionaires  to  back  him.  He  had  a  good 
business  as  a  retail  merchant,  and  in 
building  up  his  trade  had  won  many 
friends  and  very  little  enmity.  Mere 
formalities  over,  Mr.  Maxwell  asked  : 

'  'What  would  be  my  chances  in  a  cam 
paign  against  Jacob  Sharp  ?" 

"If  it  were  a  perfectly  fair  election, 
they  ought  to  be  the  very  best,"  replied 
Wycliff.  "The  workingmen,  who  form 
the  large  majority  of  the  voters  of  Papy 
rus,  are  favorable  to  you.  But  Mr. 
Sharp  is  the  candidate  of  the  millionaire 
paper-makers,  and  they  practically  own 
the  town.  You  know  the  methods  which 
the  Baldwins  will  use  as  well  as  I  do. 
Coaxing  and  threatening,  of  the  kind 
which  Deacon  Surface  knows  so  well 
how  to  use,  will  have  their  effect.  Any 

22 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

employee  of  the  Baldwins  who  openly 
advocates  your  election  will  lose  his  job. 
The  Baldwins  are  already  promising  em 
ployment  if  you  are  defeated,  and  threat 
ening  to  take  away  employment  if  you 
are  elected.  Work  on  the  new  streets  at 
Maple  Heights,  will  not  be  the  only  job 
held  up  to  the  unemployed  as  a  bribe  and 
a  threat  in  this  election.  The  cry  is  al 
ready  raised  by  the  Baldwin  agents  : 
'Elect  Sharp,  and  the  Baldwins  will 
build  a  sewer  for  Papyrus  ;  defeat  Sharp, 
and  the  Baldwins  will  defeat  the  sewer. ' 
This  cowardly  sort  of  bribery  and  threat 
is  permitted  by  Massachusetts  Law,  and 
the  Baldwins  know  full  well  how  to  use 
it.  Still,  if  you  wish  to  run  against 
Sharp  for  Selectman,  I  will  place  your 
name  before  the  voters  of  Papyrus, 
through  the  columns  of  the  Elmfield 
Star.9' 

Wycliff  obtained  from  Hugh  Maxwell 
a  few  facts  which  he  needed,  and  his 
caller  departed ;  not,  however,  without 
leaving  a  ten-dollar  note,  in  appreciation 
of  the  service  which  Wycliff  was  to  un- 

23 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf.. 

dertake  for  him.  Wycliff  then  attended 
to  household  duties,  and  performed  little 
services  for  the  sick  ones,  who  were  im 
proving  very  slowly. 

Then  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Star,  ad 
vocating  Hugh  Maxwell's  election  as  Se 
lectman.  The  task  was  a  pleasant  one. 
He  mentioned  Mr.  Maxwell's  lifelong 
residence  in  Papyrus  ;  his  courtesy,  — 
''He  is  always  and  everywhere  a  gen 
tleman  ;  his  honesty, — "Who  ever  heard 
Hugh  Maxwell's  word  questioned  in  the 
smallest  particular  ?" — his  qualifications 
for  office  from  a  business  point  of  view, 

'  The  man  who  has  built  up,  from  noth 
ing,  a  good  business  of  his  own,  has  some 
qualities  needed  in  the  public  service  ;" 
his  popularity, — "He  has  the  good  will 
alike  of  the  employer  and  the  working- 
man." 

Experience  had  taught  Wycliff  the  folly 
of  exaggeration,  and  his  nomination  of 
Hugh  Maxwell  for  Selectman  was  recog 
nized  by  readers  of  the  Star  as  a  correct 
description  of  the  man,  and  not  over 
drawn. 

24 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Wy  cliff's  home  duties  were  interrupted 
in  the  evening  by  another  aspirant  for 
political  honors — Herman  Schuyler,  an 
extensive  farmer,  and  also  a  dealer  in  a 
variety  of  goods.  In  one  respect  Schuy 
ler  was  the  only  honest  man  of  means  in 
Papyrus.  He  had  broken  all  known  rec 
ords  by  appearing  at  the  office  of  the 
assessors  of  Papyrus,  and  demanding 
that  ten  thousand  dollars  be  added  to 
his  assessed  valuation. 

'  'I  am  worth  fifty  thousand  dollars, ' ' 
he  had  said  to  the  Assessors.  "My 
property  will  sell  for  that,  to-day.  I  am 
not  so  mean  as  to  be  unwilling  to  pay  a 
tax  on  every  dollar  God  has  given  me. ' ' 

Herman  Schuyler  was  the  most  liberal 
employer  in  the  town  of  Papyrus.  It 
was  not  unusual  for  him  to  pay  a  higher 
wage  to  a  workman  than  had  been  agreed 
upon,  if  the  workman  earned  it.  But  he 
was  accustomed  to  giving  orders,  and 
having  them  obeyed  promptly.  He 
wanted  a  service  from  Wycliff,  and  he 
called  for  it  very  much  as  he  would  have 
ordered  a  roast  or  steak  at  the  butcher's. 

25 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

'  1  want  to  run  for  Assessor.  I  want 
you  to  write  a  letter  to  the  Star  in  my 
favor.  I  want  you  to  write  it,  because 
there  is  nobody,  not  even  Congressman 
Baldwin  himself,  who  can  put  words  to 
gether  as  you  can.  Understand,  now, 
I  am  not  asking  you  to  vote  for  me.  A 
man  has  got  pretty  low  down,  in  my  own 
opinion,  when  he  will  ask  another  man 
to  vote  for  him.  I  want  my  name  placed 
before  the  voters  in  the  columns  of  the 
Star,  and  I  ask  you  to  do  it,  very  much 
as  I  would  ask  a  lawyer  to  make  out  a 
mortgage  or  a  deed  for  me. ' ' 

The  speaker  was  a  heavy,  square-built 
man,  clad  to-night,  as  he  usually  was  at 
this  season,  in  a  bearskin  coat,  which  he 
did  not  remove.  When  he  made  a  point, 
in  speaking,  the  square  jaws  closed  like 
a  trap,  and  he  brought  a  muscular  fist 
down  heavily  upon  the  arm  of  the  rocker 
in  which  he  was  seated. 

"Well,  Mr.  Schuyler,"  Wy cliff  replied 
at  length,  '  1  will  do  my  best  for  you,  and 
it  will  be  a  congenial  task.  Everything 
that  I  know  of  you  is  in  your  favor  ;  but 

26 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

I  fear  that  your  very  honesty  will  be  used 
against  you.  Our  leading  citizens  do  not 
want  a  thoroughly  honest  man  in  the 
office  of  Assessor.  They  want  the  prop 
erty  of  the  town  assessed  at  only  a  frac 
tion  of  its  true  value,  so  that  the  town 
will  not  have  to  bear  its  just  share  of 
state  and  county  taxes.  It  is  strange 
that  men  who  are  leaders  in  the  church 
and  in  society,  will  argue  the  longest  for 
a  dishonest  valuation. ' ' 

'  If  I  am  elected  Assessor, ' '  exclaimed 
Schuyler,  and  he  brought  his  fist  down 
upon  the  rocker-arm  so  that  everything 
about  him  shook,  '  1  shall  be  true  to  my 
oath.  It  is  strange,  as  you  say,  that 
Christian  men  will  defend  the  violation 
of  an  oath.  Every  assessor  swears  that 
he  will  'neither  overvalue  nor  undervalue' 
property  for  taxation." 

Then  Schuyler  presented  to  Wycliff 
certain  facts  which  he  wished  embodied 
in  the  letter  : — How  he  came  to  Papyrus 
forty  years  before,  with  only  a  dollar  in 
his  pocket,  and  had  built  up  his  present 
fine  property  by  industry  and  fair  dealing. 

27 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

'  'I  tell  you  what, ' '  he  said,  as  his  hearer 
excused  himself  to  perform  some  service 
for  the  sick  ones,  '  'You  write  the  letter 
to-morrow,  when  you  have  leisure.  I'll 
drive  over  in  the  evening  and  get  it.  By 
the  way,  how's  your  coal-bin?" 

"Pretty  low,"  replied  Wycliff. 

"Very  well,"  said  Schuyler,  "I'll  send 
a  ton  to-morrow  and  a  receipt  by  the 
driver.  Goodnight." 

And  out  into  the  night  went  this  last 
candidate  for  political  honors. 

"A  pretty  good  day  financially,  my 
dears,"  said  Wycliff,  as  he  kissed  his 
wife  and  son,  and  made  everything  se 
cure  for  the  night. 


28 


CHAPTER  III. 

wwTOHN,  do  you   know   where   Pulpit 

J     Rock  is?" 

"Indeed  I  do.  It's  two  or  three  miles 
into  the  Wilderness." 

"How  near  can  you  drive  to  it?" 

"Perhaps  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 

There's  an  old  wood-road,  which  per 
haps  runs  as  near  as  that  to  Pulpit  Rock. 

The  road  is  very  rough,  gullied  out  by 
water.  There  might  be  some  danger  of 
breaking  a  carriage  in  it." 

"Never  mind.  I'll  run  the  risk.  Be 
ready  in  fifteen  minutes." 

It  was  black-eyed  Eva  Baldwin  who 
gave  the  order,  and  within  an  hour  they 
had  left  the  public  highway,  and  were 
following  the  ancient  and  unused  wood- 
road  through  the  Wilderness.  The  wheel 
of  the  buckboard  bounded  high  over 
stones  that  blocked  the  way,  and  then 
dropped  as  suddenly  into  deep  holes  worn 
by  the  freshets.  The  riders  often  dodged 
or  bent  low  to  avoid  being  brushed  from 

29 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

their  seats  by  branches  of  trees.  It  was 
very  far  from  being  a  pleasant  ride,  but 
never  a  word  of  complaint  from  the  lady. 

She  was  anxious  to  secure  the  earliest 
blossoms  of  the  fragrant  trailing  arbutus, 
to  grace  the  pulpit  on  the  morrow. 

She  might  send  some  rare  and  costly 
flowers  from  the  greenhouse,  but  every 
one  of  the  Baldwin  greenhouses  would 
contribute  to  the  decoration  of  the  church, 
and  she,  being  fond  of  wild  flowers  and 
of  nature  at  first  hand,  wished  to  bring 
something  direct  from  the  Wilderness. 

Eva  Baldwin  was  a  sister  of  David  and 
Zechariah  Baldwin,  and  was  worth  a 
couple  of  millions  easily,  but  she  never 
realized  how  poor  she  was  until  the  elo 
quent  young  clergyman,  the  Reverend 
Ralph  Cutter,  came  to  preach  at  the  First 
Church. 

"Many  a  poor  girl,"  she  said  to  an  in 
timate  friend,  "is  richer  that  I  am,  in  the 
love  of  a  good  honest  man." 

If  the  Reverend  Ralph  Cutter  had 
made  any  advances  in  her  direction,  he 
would  have  been  met,  frankly  and  hon- 

30 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

estly,  by  a  good  true  woman.  She  ad 
mired  the  new  preacher  the  moment  she 
first  saw  him,  and  that  admiration  grew 
with  every  service  of  his  which  she  at 
tended,  and  with  every  opportunity  for 
becoming  acquainted  with  him. 

The  coachman  noticed  the  fire  in  the 
black  eyes,  as  she  alighted. 

"You  see  that  path?"  he  asked.  "It 
leads  through  a  hemlock  grove,  over  a 
flint  ledge,  and  into  a  little  valley  be 
yond.  Pulpit  Rock  is  across  the  valley 
from  the  ledge.  The  earliest  arbutus  is 
found  across  the  valley,  on  the  slope  be 
low  Pulpit  Rock,  among  scattered  bushes. 
Shall  I  help  you?" 

4 'Oh,  no;  I'll  find  it  easily,"  she  re 
plied,  and  taking  the  basket  which  the 
coachman  handed  her,  she  followed  the 
path,  humming  a  favorite  song,  and  was 
soon  out  of  sight  in  the  hemlocks. 

On  that  same  Saturday  morning  the 
Reverend  Ralph  Cutter  entered  the 
Wilderness  from  the  opposite  direction. 
Perhaps  none  of  those  who  listened  to 
the  impassioned  and  earnest  appeals  of 

31 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

the  young-  minister,  knew  that  he  helped 
to  keep  both  his  spiritual  life  and  his 
oratorical  powers  at  white  heat  by  this 
weekly  journey  to  the  Wilderness,  where 
he  spent  an  hour  in  secret  prayer  and  in 
speaking  to  the  rocks  and  trees  from  the 
text  he  was  to  use  on  the  morrow. 

Leaving  the  public  road,  he  made  his 
way  through  the  Wilderness,  along  a 
path  not  very  well  marked,  through  som 
ber  groves  of  pine  and  hemlock,  through 
other  groves  of  red  oak,  rock  maple  and 
beech,  across  brooks,  among  large  flint 
boulders,  and  through  tracts  where  the 
wood  had  been  cut  off,  and  the  thorny 
blackberry  canes  had  taken  its  place. 
Part  of  the  way  the  snow  still  covered 
the  ground,  and  part  of  the  way  the  floor 
of  the  Wilderness  was  carpeted  with  the 
blooms  of  the  hepatica,  or  liverwort, 
with  here  and  there  an  early  blossom  of 
the  trailing  arbutus. 

He  made  the  same  journey  each  Sat 
urday,  that  he  might  be  alone  for  secret 
prayer,  where  he  expected  no  interrup 
tion  and  also  where  he  might,  in  the  f ree- 

32 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

dom  of  the  Wilderness,  give  the  morrow's 
sermon.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  would  use 
the  same  words  on  Sunday  that  he  hurled 
at  the  white  birch  trees  and  flint  boulders 
on  Saturday.  But  the  ideas  would  be 
the  same.  He  never  used  any  written 
sermon. 

One  of  his  deacons  once  said  of  him  :— 
'  'He  seems  to  have  everything  connected 
with  his  subject  so  completely  under  his 
control,  that  he  has  only  to  reach  out  and 
grasp  the  idea  that  comes  next,  and  hurl 
it  at  you  with  the  force  and  speed  of  a 
thunderbolt.  We  used  to  have  sleepy 
hearers.  I  have  seen  no  one  nodding 
under  Ralph  Cutter's  preaching.  We 
used  to  have  complaints  from  people  who 
were  hard  of  hearing.  Ralph  Cutter 
seems  to  think  it  is  a  part  of  his  busi 
ness  to  make  the  people  hear." 

How  much  of  Ralph  Cutter's  power  on 
Sunday  was  due  to  his  hour  of  prayer  in 
the  Wilderness,  and  to  his  Saturday  ser 
mon  to  the  crags  and  bushes  from  Pulpit 
Rock,  I  cannot  tell. 

He  was  heavy-hearted  to-day,  and  the 

33 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

first  words  which  were  echoed  back  to 
him  by  the  flint  ledge  across  the  valley 
were  these  :— 

"This  is  my  farewell  to  you.  There 
are  people  in  this  church  who  attempt  to 
dictate  what  I  shall  say  from  this  pulpit. 
Not  only  do  they  attempt  to  dictate  what 
I  shall  say  here,  but  they  attempt  to  dic 
tate  my  actions  outside.  They  tell  me 
that  I  must  not  exercise  the  right,  be 
longing  to  every  citizen,  of  expressing 
my  opinions  in  private  or  public,  on  ques 
tions  of  public  policy. 

"There  is  no  person  on  this  earth  rich 
enough,  or  powerful  enough,  to  dictate 
what  I  shall  say,  or  what  I  shall  not  say, 
as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel.  You  may 
have  this  pulpit,  and  you  may  secure,  to 
fill  it,  some  one  who  will  be  your  slave ; 
but  I  will  wear  no  other  bonds  than  those 
of  the  Master,  whether  in  the  pulpit  or 
out,  and  no  man,  even  though  he  be  a 
thousand  times  a  millionaire,  will  shape 
my  words  or  actions,  as  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,  or  as  a  private  citizen. ' ' 

There  was  much  in  Ralph  Cutter's 

34 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

mind  that  did  not  find  expression  in 
words.  He  had  been  disgusted  with  the 
First  Church  in  Papyrus,  or  rather  with 
its  bosses,  before  he  had  been  with  it  a 
fortnight.  Only  the  magical  charm  of  a 
pair  of  black  eyes,  and  the  lovable  per 
sonality  behind  them,  had  made  life  in 
the  Paper  Town  endurable  to  him.  Re 
cently  Zechariah  Baldwin  had  given  the 
young  preacher  plain  notice  that  if  he 
continued  to  occupy  the  pulpit  of  the 
First  Church,  he  must  cut  out  some  of 
his  pet  hobbies  from  future  sermons. 
He  must  cease  to  meddle  with  the  rela 
tions  between  labor  and  capital,  both  in 
the  pulpit  and  out — and,  in  short,  he 
must  omit  everything  which  could  possi 
bly  offend  the  Honorable  Zechariah. 
This  dictation  the  young  preacher  posi 
tively  refused  to  submit  to. 

He  tried  to  imagine  the  changed  atti 
tude  of  the  people  toward  him  at  the 
close  of  to-morrow's  sermon.  There 
would  be  faces  averted  from  him  which 
had  always  before  been  friendly.  There 
would  be  hands  withheld  which  had  al- 

35 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

ways  before  sought  his  in  friendly  greet 
ing. 

There  was  one  peculiarly  sharp  thorn 
in  this  thorny  affair.  How  he  wished 
that  those  searching  black  eyes  did  not 
belong  to  a  member  of  the  '  'Royal  Fam 
ily",  as  the  Baldwin  family  was  some 
times  called. 

Nature  was  not  disturbed  by  his  elo 
quence.  A  hawk  sailed  with  unmoved 
wings,  in  mighty  circles,  high  above  him. 
The  noisy  blue  jays  were  mobbing  an 
owl  in  the  oak  grove  close  by.  The 
blossoms  of  the  trailing  arbutus  were  as 
lavish  of  their  fragrance  as  if  no  one  in 
the  world  were  troubled,  or  perplexed, 
or  in  love. 

All  unconscious  that  any  human  being 
was  within  hearing,  the  preacher  con 
tinued  :— 

' '  When  I  first  came  to  Papyrus  I  de 
livered  a  sermon  against  the  disfran- 
chisement  of  negroes  at  the  South.  Af 
ter  the  service  a  workingman  asked  me 
why  I  did  not  ask  a  full  and  free  ballot 
for  the  white  paper-maker  of  Massachu- 

36 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

setts,  as  well  as  for  the  negro  cotton- 
planter  of  Mississippi?  I  was  much  sur 
prised  when  the  workman  told  me  that 
mill-hands  in  Papyrus,  who  are  legal 
voters,  do  not  have  a  full  vote  in  town- 
government,  and  cannot  secure  it. 

' '  I  have  since  investigated  actual  con 
ditions  here,  and  find  that  the  Papyrus 
mill-hand,  even  if  he  owns  his  home, 
cannot  vote  appropriations  for  schools, 
highways,  street-lights,  sewers,  and 
other  public  improvements  for  which  he 
is  taxed.  The  mill-hand,  it  is  claimed, 
is  given  two  hours  in  which  to  attend 
town-meeting.  That  period  of  two  hours 
always  includes  the  dinner-hour.  The 
trip  to  and  from  the  town-hall,  in  some 
cases,  takes  nearly  the  whole  of  the  two 
hours. 

"TWO  HOURS  for  the  rightful  monarch 
of  Papyrus  to  say  how  the  town  shall  be 
governed!  A  two-hour  limit  to  prevent 
the  real  creator  of  all  your  wealth  from 
saying  how  that  wealth  shall  be  taxed! 
Two  HOURS  limit  for  a  free  citizen  of 
the  grand  old  Commonwealth  of  Massa- 

37 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

chusetts  on  Town-Meeting-Day — the  day 
that  taught  New  England  to  be  free! 
In  reality,  not  two  hours,  not  one  hour. 
Barely  time  for  the  rightful  monarch  to 
mark  a  ballot  for  town-officers  and  re 
turn  to  the  mill,  while  the  usurper  re 
mains  and  dictates  what  sums  shall  be 
spent  by  the  town  for  schools,  highways 
and  other  needs. 

' '  I  have  consulted  one  of  the  best  law 
yers  in  the  state.  He  says  :  '  The  Com 
monwealth  of  Massachusetts  does  not 
guarantee  to  its  mill-hands,  who  may  be 
legal  voters,  the  right  to  vote  in  town  af 
fairs.  The  paltry  two-hour  provision 
only  makes  a  farce  of  free  government 
in  mill-towns.  It  does  not  apply  to  town- 
meetings.  In  some  towns  the  work 
man's  full  rights  are  secured  by  shutting 
down  the  mills  on  town-meeting  day, 
and  in  others  by  holding  the  business 
meeting,  for  appropriations,  in  the  even 
ing.  But  where  the  town  authorities 
and  the  employers,  as  in  Papyrus,  are 
both  opposed  to  allowing  the  mill-hands 
to  vote  on  appropriations,  they  have  no 

38 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

legal  remedy.  The  political  leaders,  or 
bosses,  of  the  State  have  been  asked  to 
correct  the  law,  but  they  say  the  matter 
is  of  no  importance, — as  if  anything 
could  possibly  be  more  important  than 
the  principle  of  equal  rights,  upon  which 
our  nation  is  founded." 

"And  this,"  shouted  the  speaker  in 
the  Wilderness,  "this  is  the  boasted 
equal  rights  of  Massachusetts.  I  do  not 
wonder  that  you,  manufacturers  of  Papy 
rus,  are  ashamed, — so  ashamed  that  you 
have  forbidden  me  to  mention  this  sub 
ject  in  the  pulpit, — so  ashamed  that  you 
have  muzzled  every  newspaper  within 
fifty  miles,  even  the  usually  independent 
Springdale  Democrat.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed.  The  State  of  Massachusetts, 
which  disfranchises  its  own  workmen, 
while  demanding  political  equality  for  the 
Southern  negro,  ought  to  be  ashamed." 

Soon  after  Miss  Baldwin  left  the  coach 
man  heard  a  voice,  and  fearful  for  her 
safety,  hurried  to  the  ledge,  where  he 
saw  and  heard  the  speaker.  He  did  not 
stay  long,  but  long  enough  to  learn  that 

39 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

it  was  the  minister's  farewell,  and  a  very 
unusual  discourse. 

* '  My  last  word  to  you, ' '  rang  out  the 
powerful  voice  across  the  valley,  '  'shall 
be  in  favor  of  a  pure  church.  Ask  on 
the  street,  for  the  worst  libertines  and 
adulterers  in  town,  the  wreckers  of  happy 
homes,  the  men  whose  social  life  is  a 
stench, — and  members  of  this  church, 
protected  by  their  wealth,  will  be  pointed 
out  to  you.  Search  for  the  employers 
most  unjust  to  their  workmen,  and  you 
will  find  them  sheltered  by  this  church. 
My  parting  advice  is,  to  purify  your 
church, — to  drive  out  of  it  the  thieves  and 
adulterers,  or  to  cease  calling  it  a  church 
of  Christ." 

The  lady  returned  with  a  basket  of  ar 
butus,  but  there  was  no  song  on  her  lips, 
and  the  fire  had  burned  out  of  the  black 
eyes. 

"John,"  she  said,  "drive  me  to  the 
home  of  the  Widow  Fordyce.  She  is  sick 
and  may  be  glad  of  these  flowers." 

To  an  acquaintance,  that  evening,  the 
coachman  said: — "If  you  want  to  hear 

40 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Reverend  Ralph  Cutter's  farewell  and 
the  greatest  sermon  ever  preached  in 
Papyrus,  go  to  the  First  Church  to-mor 
row/' 

The  news  spread  rapidly,  and  Ralph 
Cutter  was  surprised  when  he  met  a  con 
gregation  for  which  the  building  could 
not  furnish  standing-room.  But  even 
those  in  the  street  heard  him. 


41 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CONDITIONS  improved  steadily  with 
the  Wycliffs.  Mrs.  Wycliff  and 
Robert  were  both  gaining  slowly,  but 
surely.  From  various  sources,  some  of 
them  unexpected,  came  sufficient  income 
to  pay  all  bills  promptly  when  due.  Wyc 
liff  had  dabbled  in  literature  since  boy 
hood,  and  his  income  from  this  source, 
though  small,  was  helpful. 

While  he  was  still  at  home,  helping 
about  the  house,  and  frequently  consulted 
by  Hugh  Maxwell,  and  by  those  whose 
political  fortunes  were  linked  with  his, 
a  stranger  called.  He  was  a  keen-look 
ing  man,  who  wasted  no  time  in  cere 
mony. 

II  John  Wycliff,  I  believe?" 
"Yes,  sir." 

II 1  am  Wilfrid  Terry,  of  the  Elmfield 
Star.     We  are  not  satisfied  with  our  sales 
in  Papyrus.     We  sell  only  a  thousand 
papers  here,  whereas  we  ought  to  sell 
fifteen  hundred.     We  are  told  that  you 

42 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

have  had  experience  in  newspaper  work, 
and  a  gentleman  who  is  acquainted  with 
your  former  work,  thinks  you  could  bring 
our  sales  in  Papyrus  up  to  what  they 
ought  to  be." 

'  1  don't  believe  that  I  could  work  for 
you." 

"Indeed,  and  why  not?" 

"As  I  have  learned  it,  good  journalism 
is  no  respecter  of  persons.  I  could  not, 
or  rather  I  would  not,  work  under  your 
system,  which  tells  the  truth  about  the 
poor  man,  but  conceals  the  truth  about 
the  rich  man." 

"I  don't  understand  you." 

' '  I  can  tell  you  in  a  way  that  you  will 
understand,"  replied  Wy cliff  sharply: 
"When  Rudolph  Hartland,  a  small  con 
tractor,  had  trouble  with  his  workmen, 
and  a  dozen  of  them  went  on  a  strike, 
you  devoted  columns  of  valuable  space  to 
the  occurrence;  but  when  hundreds  of 
employees  in  the  Liberty  Mill  of  the  Bald 
win  Paper  Company,  struck  against  a  cut 
in  wages,  your  paper  never  mentioned  it. 
Here  was  an  important  event,  in  which 

43 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

the  public  had  a  vital  interest,  but  you 
would  not  allow  any  reference  to  it  in  the 
paper.  You  have  never  allowed  the  facts 
to  be  presented  in  your  publication  re 
garding  the  partial  disfranchisement  of 
workingmen  in  Papyrus,  by  which  all 
mill-hands  are  prevented  from  having  any 
voice  in  town-government,  except  to  vote 
for  town-officers,  being  shut  out  from 
voting  for  appropriations.  Only  a  short 
time  ago  you  refused  to  publish  Reverend 
Ralph  Cutter's  farewell  sermon,  the  most 
notable  sermon,  perhaps,  ever  preached 
in  Papyrus.  Why  have  you  refused  pub 
licity  to  these  things,  which  the  people 
want  to  know,  and  which  the  people  are 
entitled  to  know?  Simply  because  you 
are  afraid  of  offending  the  Baldwins. 
You  ought  to  wear  a  brass  collar,  with 
your  owner's  name  on  it." 

John  Wy cliff's  voice  and  features 
were  not  expressive.  He  could  never 
have  been  an  actor.  But  he  was  getting 
waked  up,  and  a  little  light  was  creeping 
into  his  one  lonesome,  dull  gray  eye. 
Such  expression  as  there  was  in  his  fea- 

44 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

tures  was  of  loathing  and  contempt.  He 
looked  as  if  he  would  have  been  glad  to 
take  up  his  visitor  with  a  pair  of  tongs, 
deposit  him  gently  in  some  out-of-the- 
way  place,  and  cover  him  up  so  that  he 
would  not  offend  the  senses  of  decent 
people. 

''I  didn't  come  here  to  listen  to  abuse 
of  this  kind,"  exclaimed  Terry  angrily. 

" Never  mind  what  you  came  here 
for,"  retorted  Wycliff.  "If  you  stay 
around  me  you  will  hear  a  grain  of  truth 
occasionally.  There  may  be  something 
to  be  said  for  a  man  like  Deacon  Sur 
face,  who  serves  the  devil  for  a  fat  sal 
ary,  but  you  serve  him  for  nothing.  The 
Baldwins  despise  you,  as  such  men  al 
ways  despise  their  slaves,  and  the  public 
despises  you,  too.  And  what  do  you  get 
out  of  it?  You  complain  that  you  are 
selling  only  one  thousand  papers  in  Papy 
rus.  Why  not  give  the  facts  that  the 
people  are  entitled  to  know,  and  sell  fif 
teen  hundred?" 

Terry  was  angry,  but  the  money  was 
what  he  was  after,  and  possibly  Wycliff 

45 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

was  right,  after  all,  in  what  he  said. 

' '  Let's  talk  business, ' '  he  said.  '  'Come 
out  to  Lawyer  Sturgis'  office  to-morrow, 
and  we'll  sign  an  agreement.  If  you  can 
bring  our  circulation  in  Papyrus  up  to 
fifteen  hundred  copies,  you  shall  have 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  one 
year's  salary  guaranteed.  You  shall 
handle  the  Papyrus  news  and  comment 
upon  it  as  you  see  fit,  so  long  as  you  do 
not  render  the  publisher  of  the  paper 
liable  to  an  action  at  law.  If  we  differ 
on  this  point,  Lawyer  Sturgis'  decision 
shall  be  final." 

"It's  a  bargain,"  said  Wycliff,  and 
his  caller  departed. 

The  details  were  arranged,  and  con 
tract  signed,  the  next  day.  A  few  even 
ings  later  Wycliff  was  sitting  in  what  he 
humorously  called  his  "office."  It  con 
tained  a  few  books,  mostly  for  refer 
ence,  a  convenient  desk,  a  small  safe,  a 
stuffed  cougar,  or  mountain  lion,  from 
the  Rockies,  and  a  mounted  moosehead 
from  Maine — all  of  these  things  being 
reminders  of  more  prosperous  times. 

46 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Frowning  upon  all,  and  seemingly  out  of 
place,  was  a  good  likeness  of  Congress 
man  Baldwin,  of  whom  Wycliff  had  been 
a  great  admirer. 

Answering  a  timid  knock,  Wycliff 
found  a  fellow-laborer  at  the  door,  a 
weak-minded  French  Canadian,  a  mere 
boy,  who  went  by  the  name  of  "Half 
witted  Joe. ' ' 

"How do  you  do,  Joe?  "  he  asked  when 
his  old  comrade  was  seated. 

"Mad." 

"What  is  the  trouble?" 

"Mr.  Sharp  no  pay  me.  He  say  me 
no  worth  ten  dollars." 

"Did  he  pay  you  anything?" 

"Yes,  five  dollars  for  clothes." 

"You  worked  one  month?  " 

: '  Yes,  he  promise  me  ten  dollars  and 
board." 

"I  heard  him." 

' '  Me  get  up  early ;  me  work  late— 
eight  o'clock,  sometimes.  Me  work 
hard.  Mr.  Sharp  say  me  no  earn  only 
five  dollars.  Damn." 

"What  will  you  do?" 

47 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"Me  go  home,   Canada." 

Have  you  money  enough  to  take  you 
home?" 

"No.     Me  sell  watch,  five  dollar." 

He  exhibited  a  watch,  for  which  Wyc- 
liff  thought  he  could  safely  pay  that 
amount,  and  he  handed  Joe  the  money. 

"Thank,"  said  Joe,  as  he  stepped  over 
the  threshold,  "Me  fix  old  Sharp. " 

"Don't  hurt  Mr.  Sharp,"  Wycliff  cau 
tioned  him.  ' '  Mr.  Sharp  has  a  good  wife, 
and  good  children.  Besides,  you  would 
go  to  prison." 

The  tone  of  his  visitor  changed.  He 
seemed  to  realize  that  he  had  blundered 
in  making  the  threat. 

"Me  no  hurt  Mr.  Sharp,"  he  finally 
promised,  and  then  he  went  out  into  the 
darkness. 

"Don't  lose  your  money,"  was  Wyc 
liff' s  parting  advice. 

When  he  was  out  in  the  night  again, 
Joe's  anger  kindled  anew,  as  he  remem 
bered  the  farm-superintendent's  injus 
tice.  Although  Wycliff' s  warning  pre 
vented  him  from  doing  Sharp  bodily 

48 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

harm,  he  was  still  bent  on  revenge.  Re 
venge  was  still  the  uppermost  idea  in 
Half-Witted  Joe's  unbalanced  mind,  as 
he  approached  Beauna  Vista,  and  the 
dark  night  had  its  strong  influence  upon 
his  thought  and  purpose. 

He  glanced  in  at  the  farm-house  win 
dows.  The  family  and  the  farm-hands 
were  busy  reading.  Mr.  Sharp,  he  knew, 
had  gone  to  a  public  meeting.  The  coast 
was  clear.  He  stole  around  to  the  side 
of  the  barn  farthest  from  the  house.  He 
went  through  an  unused  stable,  to  where 
the  lower  part  of  a  great  mow  of  hay 
was  exposed. 

There  was  the  flash  of  a  match,  the 
sudden  darting  upward  of  the  flames  on 
the  edge  of  the  hay-mow,  and  then  Joe 
hurried  out  through  the  yard,  across  the 
meadow,  and  reaching  the  railroad  track, 
followed  it  to  the  edge  of  a  piece  of 
woods. 

Here  he  halted,  cowering  in  some 
bushes,  and  looked.  He  saw  the  light 
gleam  from  the  big  barn-doors,  saw  the 
flames  break  through  the  roof,  saw  the 

49 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

inmates  of  the  house  rush  out,  and  heard 
the  alarm  sounded  from  farm-house  to 
farm-house.  Soon  a  neighboring  far 
mer  rushed  past  Joe,  on  his  way  to  the 
fire,  and  as  the  flames  now  lit  up  the  land 
scape  all  around,  Joe  realized  that  he 
might  be  discovered,  and  passed  on.  But 
while  he  looked,  he  feasted  his  eyes  as 
greedily  as  a  former  savage  might  have 
done,  on  the  destruction  of  a  pioneer 
home. 

''Me  fix  you,  Jake  Sharp/'  he  said, 
in  a  whisper,  as  he  shook  his  fist  in 
farewell  at  Beauna  Vista.  He  did  not 
realize  that  the  loss  fell  upon  others, 
and  not  upon  Sharp.  An  hour  later  he 
was  aboard  a  train  on  his  way  to  Canada. 

The  farm-building  which  is  fired  is 
usually  doomed.  It  could  not  be  other 
wise  on  this  occasion,  when  the  flames 
had  their  start  in  a  forty-ton  mow  of 
hay,  dry  as  tinder. 

The  farm-laborers  first  saved  the  horses. 
Their  next  move  was  such  as  might  have 
been  expected  from  excited  men,  unused 
to  such  emergencies — they  began  drag- 

50 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

ging  out  the  vehicles,  until  Mrs.  Sharp, 
with  more  forethought  than  the  men,  ex 
claimed  :  "The  cows!  the  cows  next!" 

"  But  we  cannot  get  at  the  door  of  the 
cow-stable, ' '  the  laborers  protested. 

' '  Take  crowbars  and  break  in  the  side 
of  the  barn !"  she  ordered,  and  under  a 
woman's  direction  the  work  of  rescue 
went  on. 

The  fire-department  of  Papyrus  re 
sponded  tardily,  owing  to  distance,  and 
could  do  but  little,  except  to  protect  the 
farm-house.  Finally,  as  the  glowing  pa 
geant  lit  up  the  landscape  for  miles  in 
every  direction,  half  the  men  of  Papyrus 
were  on  the  scene,  but  could  do  nothing 
except  listen  to  the  crackle  of  burning 
timbers,  and  the  bellowing  of  imprisoned 
and  roasting  cattle. 

John  Wycliff  knew  very  well  that  the 
Baldwins  would  not  wish  the  story  of  the 
relations  of  Jacob  Sharp  and  Half-Witted 
Joe  published,  but  he  considered  that  the 
public  was  entitled  to  know  it.  The  story 
of  the  poor  Canadian  boy,  and  his  treat 
ment  by  Jacob  Sharp,  was  told  in  the  Star 

51 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

as  graphically  as  the  story  of  the  fire  it 
self.  In  his  narrative  Wycliff  made  a 
clear  distinction  between  known  facts 
regarding  the  fire,  and  mere  suspicions 
or  rumors. 

The  Tribune,  the  Star's  Elmfield  rival, 
the  property  of  Congressman  Baldwin, 
made  this  announcement  :— 

* '  Not  a  clue  is  obtainable  regarding 
the  origin  of  the  fire.  Mr.  Sharp,  the 
foreman  of  Beauna  Vista,  is  a  man  who 
always  keeps  the  good  will  of  his  em 
ployees,  so  that  not  a  shadow  of  suspic 
ion  can  lie  in  that  direction." 

This  way  of  dealing  with  news  was  en 
tirely  in  harmony  with  the  usual  policy 
of  the  Baldwins,  where  their  own  inter 
ests  were  involved.  There  were  several 
persons  who  were  angry  at  the  course 
taken  by  the  Star.  The  Baldwins  were 
angry,  partly  because  they  regarded  it 
as  an  intrusion  upon  their  private  affairs 
and  partly  because  the  fire-story  had 
dealt  Sharp  a  hard  blow  in  his  fight  for 
the  office  of  Selectman. 

As  for  Sharp,  he  threatened  various 

52 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

things,  but  his  own  attorney  told  him  to 
"  pocket  his  wrath  and  say  nothing,"  as 
he  could  not  maintain  an  action  against 
the  Star. 

Terry  was  happy,  as  the  sales  of  the 
Star,  in  Papyrus,  had  been  lifted  be 
tween  two  and  three  hundred,  and  the 
increase  promised  to  prove  permanent. 


53 


CHAPTER  V. 

w  w  TTOW  are  you  and  the  lad,   this 
A  JL    morning,  Mrs.  Wycliff?"  asked 
that  good  neighbor,  Mrs.  Clyde. 

"  Getting  along  nicely,  thank  you,  and 
very  glad  to  see  you,"  replied  Mrs.  Wyc- 
liff.  *  'But  how  does  it  happen  that  you 
are  not  working  to-day?" 

"The  strike.  Haven't  you  heard  of 
the  rag-cutters'  strike?  Three  hundred 
rag-cutters  walked  out  of  the  Baldwin 
Mills  an  hour  ago." 

"I  didn't  know  that  the  Baldwins  ever 
had  a  strike  in  their  mills." 

*  *  They  don't  often  have  one,  and  when 
they  do,  the  world  at  large  does  not  know 
about  it,  they  have  such  a  strong  grip 
on  the  newspapers  about  here.  My  son, 
Tom,  works  on  the  Springdale  Democrat, 
and  he  has  told  me  a  lot  about  these 
things.  Springdale  is  about  fifty  miles 
from  here,  and  the  Democrat  pretends  to 
be  an  independent  newspaper,  and  yet  it 
never  prints  any  news  from  Papyrus 

54 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

which  can  possibly  hurt  Congressman 
Baldwin.  Some  years  ago,  Tom  began 
work  as  correspondent  here  for  the 
Democrat,  and  there  was  a  big  strike 
here,  in  the  Liberty  Mill,  which  belongs 
to  the  Baldwin  Paper  Company.  Tom 
didn't  know  any  better  then,  and  he 
sent  them  a  long  article  about  the  strike. 
Not  a  word  of  it  was  printed,  and  the 
editor  wrote  Tom  that  they  never  printed 
any  news  of  that  kind  about  the  Bald 
wins.  Then  the  other  Springdale  paper, 
the  Universe,  is  owned  by  Congressman 
Baldwin  ;  so,  of  course,  that  does  not 
print  a  word  regarding  troubles  in  the 
Baldwin  Mills." 

' '  But  what  was  the  cause  of  the  strike 
to-day?"  inquired  Mrs.  Wycliff. 

' '  There  were  a  good  many  things  that 
had  something  to  do  with  it,"  replied  the 
neighbor,  "but  fines  were  the  worst.'' 

"Fines!  Do  you  have  to  pay  fines?" 
asked  Mrs.  Wycliff. 

"Yes,  in  this  way.  Perhaps  you  do 
not  understand  how  fast  we  have  to 
work  to  earn  what  we  get.  We  earn 

55 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

about  one  dollar  per  day,  and  to  do  this 
we  must  cut  in  the  neighborhood  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds  of  rags. 
Now,  in  cutting  these  rags,  if  we  over 
look  a  button,  or  a  bit  of  rubber,  we  are 
fined  a  pound  of  rags. " 

' '  That  is,  if  you  put  in  a  piece  of  cloth 
having  a  button  on  it,  no  matter  how 
small,  you  must  cut  an  extra  pound  of 
rags,  to  punish  you  for  overlooking  that 
button.  Am  I  right?" 

"Yes,  you  have  it  exactly  right,  and 
it's  just  the  same  if  I  put  in  a  piece  of 
cloth  which  has  a  bit  of  rubber  in  it. 
And  here,  see  here  is  a  bit  of  cloth  that 
came  back  to  me  this  morning, — just 
this  little  bit  of  a  letter,  sewed  into  the 
cloth."  And  she  showed  Mrs.  Wycliff  a 
bit  of  white  cloth,  on  which  was  a  small 
initial,  such  as  is  used  in  marking  gar 
ments. 

"There  are  hundreds  of  pieces  and 
consequently  hundreds  of  motions  we 
must  make  in  cutting  one  pound  of  rags, 
for  which  we  receive  less  than  a  cent. 
Working  so  rapidly  as  we  are  obliged  to 

56 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

do,  to  accomplish  our  day's  task,  is  it 
any  wonder  that  a  piece  of  cloth,  con 
taining  a  button,  or  a  bit  of  rubber,  slips 
through  our  fingers  unnoticed  now  and 
then?" 

"And  this  is  what  the  strike  is  about?" 
' '  Yes,  this  is  the  main  thing.  We  are 
willing  to  pay  something  of  a  fine  for 
failure  to  notice  rubber  and  buttons,  but 
we  think  that  the  fine  is  now  too  heavy. 
There  are  some  other  things  we  don't 
like — some  brutal  bosses,  not  fit  to  drive 
oxen,  let  alone  women.  Our  scythes  are 
often  poorly  ground.  The  Baldwins  seem 
to  think  anything  is  good  enough  for  a 
woman  to  cut  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  pounds  of  rags  a  day  on.  Sometimes 
it  is  very  dark  for  our  work." 

"Is  no  light  furnished  at  such  times?" 
"Never.  The  office  force,  or  other 
departments  of  the  mill,  may  have  lights 
at  noon  of  a  cloudy  day,  but  we  are  of 
no  account.  It  is  often  too  warm  in  our 
room.  We  don't  need  much  heat  be 
cause  we  have  plenty  of  exercise.  We 
must  be  kept  too  warm  on  account  of  the 

57 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

'lookers  over/  who  don't  have  much  ex 
ercise,  except  when  they  jump  up  on  the 
tables,  to  get  away  from  a  mouse. ' ' 

''Couldn't  the  'lookers  over'  have  a 
separate  room,  which  could  be  kept 
warm  enough  for  them,  so  that  your 
room  could  be  cooler  and  more  comfort 
able  for  you?" 

"I  don't  know.  If  the  matter  of  fines 
is  made  right,  we  will  say  nothing  about 
the  rest.  When  we  make  complaints, 
we  are  usually  told  that  the  Baldwins 
could  get  machines  to  cut  rags,  cheaper 
than  we  cut  them,  and  that  they  only 
hire  us  out  of  charity." 

' '  I  am  surprised  at  the  way  the  rag- 
cutters  are  treated,"  said  Mrs.  Wycliff ; 
' '  I  have  always  heard  that  the  Baldwins 
were  very  generous." 

"They  are  generous,"  replied  her  vis 
itor,  ' '  but  they  are  not  just.  There  is  an 
old  saying,  '  Be  just  before  you  are  gen 
erous,  '  which,  if  lived  up  to  in  Papyrus, 
would  make  a  wonderful  difference  in  fa 
vor  of  the  working  class.  How  have  the 
Baldwins  made  their  millions  ?  Of  course 

58 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

the  whole  world  knows  that  they  make  a 
very  high  grade  of  paper.  It  is  said  that 
this  is  due,  in  some  measure,  to  the  pure 
water  found  in  Papyrus,  which  is  the 
gift  of  God.  Then,  too,  it  is  claimed 
that  Mack  Baldwin  laid  the  foundation 
of  the  Baldwin  millions  by  manipulations 
in  Wall  Street,  during  the  Civil  War. 
But  some  of  those  millions  are  the  fruit 
of  low  wages.  If  the  Baldwins  pay 
twenty-five  cents  a  day  less  than  a  fair 
wage,  to  two  thousand  hands,  three  hun 
dred  days  in  a  year,  what  is  the  result? 
It's  a  yearly  saving  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars,  of  money  due  the 
laborer,  is  it  not?  Then,  perhaps,  the 
Baldwins  may  spend  fifteen  thousand 
dollars  a  year  in  pensions  to  a  very  few, 
and  in  charity  to  the  working  class. 
Nothing  can  exceed  the  cleverness  of  the 
Baldwins,  in  making  one  dollar  in  char 
ity,  look  bigger  to  the  laborer,  than  ten 
dollars  in  wages  withheld.  I  think  the 
time  is  coming  when  the  law  will  require 
the  accounts  of  all  such  concerns  as  the 
Baldwin  Paper  Company,  to  be  as  open 

59 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

as  town  accounts,  and  then  the  lion's 
share  of  profits  will  go  to  the  laborer. 
But  I  guess  you  have  had  all  the  rag- 
room  and  paper-mill  you  want  for  one 
day." 

"No,  I  have  been  very  much  inter 
ested,  and  I  wish  you  women  might  get 
justice,"  replied  Mrs.  Wycliff.  "I  think 
there  cannot  be  any  harder  or  more  dis 
agreeable  work  in  the  mill  than  yours, 
and  I  wish  that  you  might  have  better 
pay  and  kinder  treatment.  The  Bald 
wins  are  well  able  to  pay.  I  hear  that 
this  new  library  that  Zechariah  Baldwin 
is  giving  to  the  city  of  Elmfield  will  cost 
a  half  a  million  dollars." 

' '  Yes,  I  try  to  restrain  my  anger,  as 
a  Christian  woman  should,"  said  Mrs. 
Clyde,  *  'but  my  blood  boils  every  time  I 
see  that  building.  We  poor  women  must 
slave  in  Zack  Baldwin's  rag- room,  and 
the  money  which  ought  to  go  to  the  mill- 
help,  in  higher  wages,  is  given,  with  a 
great  flourish  of  trumpets,  to  the  city  of 
Elmfield,  which  is  already  rich  enough. 
As  to  our  work.  If  we  try  to  work  a  bit 

60 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

faster  than  usual,  we  are  liable  to  get  cut 
on  the  scythes,  and  there's  many  a  terri 
ble  gash  been  got  in  the  rag-room.  Then 
how  often  do  you  hear  of  contagious  dis 
eases  spread  by  the  rags  of  a  paper- 
mill. 

'  *  The  worst  slap  the  Baldwins  ever 
got  was  from  a  wealthy  Southern  lady, 
who  visited  their  mills  last  summer. 
She  said  to  Zack  Baldwin  : — 'The  slaves 
on  my  father's  plantation  in  Georgia, 
were  treated  with  more  consideration, 
and  were  more  contented  and  happy  at 
their  work  than  your  rag-cutters.  But 
the  slave-holding  system  was  wrong,  and 
it  fell.  I  think  also,  the  system  under 
which  you  Northern  millionaires  eat  the 
apple,  and  give  your  employees  the  core, 
is  wrong  and  will  fall,  too, '  But  I  have 
stayed  too  long. "  And  Mrs.  Clyde  van 
ished. 

John  Wycliff  sat  in  his  den,  within 
easy  ear-shot,  and  the  pith  of  the  wom 
en's  talk  was  woven  into  his  account  of 
the  strike,  for  the  Star. 

More  than  two  thousand  copies  of  the 

61 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Star  were  sold  that  day  in  Papyrus,  and 
its  circulation  was  raised  permanently  to 
a  point  near  those  figures. 

The  Honorable  Zechariah  Baldwin  was 
furious  when  he  read  the  Star's  account 
of  the  strike.  Never  before  had  a  local 
newspaper  dared  to  print  the  news  of  a 
Baldwin  strike,  much  less  to  hold  those 
"captains  of  industry "  up  to  public  criti 
cism,  as  it  had  done  to-day. 

But  Terry  was  happy.  He  had  sold 
extra  thousands  of  his  paper,  the  largest 
edition  ever  sold  of  a  Berkshire  newspa 
per,  and  scores  of  citizens,  in  all  walks 
of  life,  had  congratulated  him  on  his 
bravery  in  defying  the  Baldwins. 

The  most  important  result  of  the  Star's 
article  was  that  it  was  copied,  more  or 
less  fully,  by  other  papers  throughout 
the  country,  owing  to  Congressman  Bald 
win's  prominence  as  a  public  man.  A 
strike  in  his  mills  is  not  a  good  asset  for 
a  Congressman,  and  David  Baldwin  tele 
graphed  his  brother,  from  Washington, 
to  grant  the  rag-cutters'  demands  imme 
diately.  Zechariah  Baldwin  reluctantly 

62 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

complied  with  the  order  sent  by  wire. 

The  Honorable  Zechariah  Baldwin  ap 
peared,  a  very  angry  man,  at  the  office 
of  the  Star. 

"I  want  you  to  discharge  that  Wyc- 
liff, ' '  was  his  first  greeting  to  Mr.  Terry, 
the  proprietor. 

' '  How  long  have  you  owned  this  office, 
that  you  assume  to  run  my  business?" 
rejoined  Mr.  Terry. 

"But  you  know  that  we're  not  used  to 
being  treated  as  the  Star  treated  us  yes 
terday,"  protested  the  paper-manufact 
urer. 

' '  Then  the  best  thing  that  you  can  do 
is  to  get  used  to  it,"  retorted  the  pub 
lisher,  who  was  now  beginning  to  get 
angry  on  his  own  account.  "You've 
been  treated  as  if  you  were  superior  be 
ings,  but  you  are  no  better  than  other 
people.  I  have  been  suppressing  the 
truth  about  you  millionaires  for  years, 
and  losing  thousands  of  dollars  by  doing 
so.  I  might  have  sold  thousands  of  cop 
ies  of  the  Star,  in  Papyrus  and  through 
out  the  county,  had  I  not  truckled  to  you 

63 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Baldwins,  like  a  dog,  instead  of  being  a 
man.  Hereafter  the  truth  is  to  be  pub 
lished  about -you,  just  the  same  as  about 
other  folks,  and  Wycliff  is  under  contract 
to  do  it  for  a  year.  He  is  recommended 
as  being  entirely  competent  to  deal  with 
such  cases  as  yours.  Perhaps  I  shall  go 
out  and  tell  you  how  to  run  your  mills. 
There's  the  door,  Zack  Baldwin,"  and 
the  proprietor  of  the  Star,  now  thorough 
ly  angry,  motioned  the  millionaire  out. 

But  the  lord  of  Papyrus,  although  more 
surprised  than  he  had  been  before  in 
years,  was  not  to  be  thus  easily  thwarted. 

'  *  What  will  you  take  for  your  news 
paper— for  the  entire  plant?"  he  asked, 
in  a  more  conciliatory  tone. 

''Twenty-five  thousand  dollars,"  re 
plied  the  publisher,  immediately,  nam 
ing  a  price  so  far  beyond  its  true  value 
that  he  felt  sure  it  would  be  declined. 

"A  pretty  steep  price,  isn't  it?"  asked 
Baldwin. 

''Who  asked  you  to  buy?"  retorted 
Terry. 

"Come  over  to  Lawyer  Stimson's  and 

64 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

draw  the  writings,"  said  the  paper-man 
ufacturer,  withdrawing. 

Next  day  John  Wycliff  received  this 
note  :— 

"Mv  DEAR  WYCLIFF  : 

You're  a  jewel.  I've  sold  the  Star  to  Zack 
Baldwin  for  $25,000.  (It's  actual  value  is  around 
$15,000.)  I  didn't  even  sign  the  usual  agreement, 
not  to  engage  in  the  same  business  again  in  the 
same  city. 

"Enclosed  you  will  find  check  for  $1,500,  ac 
cording  to  agreement  by  which  I  guaranteed  you 
one  year's  salary. 

"  When  I  first  met  you,  I  thought  you  were  a 
discourteous  crank,  but  my  finances  and  my  self- 
respect  were  both  badly  in  need  of  the  rebuke 
which  you  gave  me.  Your  way  of  dealing  with 
such  cattle  as  the  Baldwins  beats  mine  out  of 
sight." 

"Yours  always, 

WILFRID  TERRY." 


65 


CHAPTER  VI. 

w^T^T  THERE  are  you   going,   pop?" 
W      asked  Robert,  as  Mr.  Wycliff 
drove  into  the  yard,  with  a  horse  and 
carriage,  one  fine  morning. 

* '  Going  to  take  you  and  ma  for  a  little 
ride  into  God's  country,"  replied  the  fa 
ther. 

''But  I  thought  everywhere  was  God's 
country,"  replied  the  little  fellow  in  sur 
prise. 

"Surely,"  replied  the  father.  "All 
this  beautiful  world  is  the  Lord's,  but 
He  seems  to  have  given  the  greater  part 
of  the  land  about  here  to  the  Baldwins, 
or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  nearly  cor 
rect  to  say  that  He  has  allowed  them  to 
grab  it.  I  expect  to  take  you  to-day  to 
see  a  place,  which  seems  to  me  to  be 
more  especially  God's  country,  because 
He  has  not  allowed  one  man,  or  one  fam 
ily,  to  get  possession  of  all  of  it." 

"And  you  think  it  is  a  better  coun 
try?" 

66 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"Indeed  I  do,  in  some  respects." 

After  passing  out  of  the  paper-manu 
facturing  village  of  Papyrus,  eastward, 
they  came  to  a  big,  deserted,  wooden 
mill,  with  many  tumble-down  houses 
near  it. 

"Say,  pop,  what  village  is  this?" 

"Sodom." 

'  'And  what  is  that  old  stone  mill  be 
yond?" 

"That  is  Gomorrah." 

"Quite  a  place  for  Bible  names, "  broke 
in  Mrs.  Wycliff.  "Those  ruins  of  an 
other  old  stone  mill,  also  broken  down 
and  deserted,  I  suppose  are  Babylon?" 

1 '  Exactly  so,  my  dear,  and  farther  up 
stream  we  shall  pass  Tyre  and  Sidon,  also 
broken  down  and  deserted.  This  entire 
river- valley  along  here  is  often  called  the 
Valley  of  Desolation." 

"Who  owns  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Wycliff. 

' '  The  Baldwins,  who  bought  it,  for  a 
very  little,  from  the  Quiet  Valley  Woolen 
Company." 

"Why  don't  the  Baldwins  build  paper- 
mills  here?" 

67 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"I  cannot  tell  you.  It  has  always 
seemed  to  be  the  Baldwin  policy  to  build 
up  the  other  end  of  the  town,  at  the  ex 
pense  of  this  end.  Certainly  the  Bald 
wins  have  played  the  part  of  the  'dog 
in  the  manger, '  in  regard  to  East  Papy 
rus.  They  will  neither  build  mills  here 
themselves,  nor  will  they  sell  the  prop 
erty  so  that  anyone  else  can  build  here. 
The  Wessons,  who  own  the  paper-mills 
at  Papyrus  Center,  would  have  built  mills 
here,  giving  employment  to  a  large  num 
ber  of  people,  if  they  could  have  secured 
the  property.  The  Baldwins  have  al 
ready  made  plans  for  robbing  East  Papy 
rus  of  her  water-power,  which  is  all  that 
this  end  of  the  town  has  left." 
"But  how  can  they  do  that?" 
"Very  easily.  The  water-power  can 
be  transformed  into  electricity,  and  then 
the  electricity  can  be  transferred  by 
wire,  to  the  Baldwin  Mills,  at  the  west 
end  of  the  town.  The  plans  are  already 
made.  It  will  increase  the  dividends  of 
the  Baldwin  Mills,  which  already  pay 
enormous  profits,  but  it  makes  the  pros- 

68 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

pect  for  rebuilding  East  Papyrus  much 
blacker  than  before." 

' '  But  wouldn't  it  be  better  for  the  town 
of  Papyrus  to  have  all  its  mills  rebuilt 
and  running  at  a  fair  profit,  than  to  have 
a  part  of  them  running  at  an  immense 
profit?"  protested  Mrs.  Wycliff. . 

"Certainly;  it  is  not  the  good  of  the 
town,  but  the  enrichment  of  the  Bald 
wins,  which  is  to  be  considered.  These 
shrewd  financiers  rarely  spend  a  dollar, 
unless  they  feel  sure  that  it  will  come 
back,  leading  several  other  dollars  with 
it." 

"But  they  gave  that  beautiful  big 
building  to  the  town,  pop,"  put  in  Rob 
bie. 

' '  Yes.  It  cost  the  Baldwins  one  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars,  and  it  has  cost  the 
town  twice  that." 

"How  is  that,  pop?" 

'  'In  taxes  lost.  The  Assessors  say  :— 
'we  must  tax  the  Baldwins  lightly,  be 
cause  they  are  so  generous  to  the  town. ' 
Some  of  the  Baldwin  properties  are  not 
assessed  for  more  than  one-third  value, 

69 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

an  enormous  loss  to  the  town  in  taxes. " 

Soon  they  left  the  valley,  and  began  to 
climb  the  mountain,  still  going  eastward. 

"Wild  flowers,  pop.  Please  hold  up, 
and  let  me  get  some."  The  boy  soon  re 
turned  to  the  carriage,  with  his  hands 
full  of  the  blossoms  of  the  coltsfoot, 
white,  blue,  and  yellow  violets,  bell- 
flowers,  and  wake-robins.  As  they  as 
cended  the  mountains,  they  found  the 
trailing  arbutus  and  the  spring-beauty, 
which  had  bloomed  earlier  in  the  valleys. 

A  beautiful  farm  was  reached. 

"Who  owns  this?"  asked  Mrs.  Wyc- 
liff. 

"Thomas  Bothan.  He  has  retired 
from  business,  and  spends  some  of  his 
time  here.  I  hope  I  may  find  him." 
Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  told  his  wife 
of  the  last  day  at  Beauna  Vista, — how 
Sharp  and  Bothan  had  conspired  to  keep 
back  a  part  of  his  wages  on  Bothan 's  old 
debt.  He  had  not  dared  to  tell  her  at 
the  time. 

He  soon  found  Mr.  Bothan. 

"I  want  a  receipt  in  full,"  he  said,  as 

70 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

he  produced  the  money  due  Bothan,  and 
then,  taking  leave  of  him,  he  added  :— 
' '  The  last  debt  I  owe  will  be  paid  to-day, 
and  I  have  paid  every  debt  as  fast  as  I 
was  able  to  do  so.  You  would  have  re 
ceived  yours  just  as  promptly,  had  you 
not  tried  to  take  the  bread  away  from 
my  family  to  get  it." 

For  a  distance  their  route  lay  through 
a  grand  old  forest  of  large  trees.  The 
boy  was  jubilant  as  he  saw,  first  a  striped 
squirrel,  then  a  red  one,  then  a  gray, 
and  then :— 

"Oh,  look  quick,  pop;  what  was  that? 
It  looked  like  a  squirrel,  but  it  flew,  or 
rather  it  sailed,  from  one  tree  to  an 
other." 

"A  flying  squirrel." 

"And  there's  a  rabbit.  Oh,  now  I  be 
gin  to  see  why  you  call  this  God's  coun- 
try." 

About  noon  they  reached  their  destina 
tion,  the  farm  of  Phillips  Porter,  in 
Sprucemont,  where  they  were  expected, 
and  where  a  substantial  meal  was  await 
ing  them. 

71 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"You  have  been  very  patient  with 
me,"  said  Wy cliff,  as  he  paid  Porter 
about  one  hundred  dollars,  the  last  debt 
he  owed.  Mr.  Porter  told  again  to-day, 
(and  he  seemed  to  enjoy  telling  it,)  the 
story  of  how  he  came  to  leave  Papyrus. 

' '  It  was  many  years  ago,  and  Mack 
Baldwin,  father  of  the  present  genera 
tion  of  paper-makers,  was  in  control,  al 
though  Zechariah  and  David  were  young 
men  then,  just  learning  the  business. 
The  Baldwins  were  not  then  so  completely 
in  control  of  the  town  of  Papyrus  as  they 
are  now.  Captain  Bolton  Wesson,  who 
built  the  paper-mills  at  Papyrus  Center, 
was  a  broader  and  better  man  than  Mack 
Baldwin,  and  the  two  were  often  opposed 
to  one  another  in  town-affairs. 

"Captain  Wesson  wanted  the  town- 
hall  located  at  the  Center,  the  natural 
and  proper  place  for  it,  but  Mack  Bald 
win  demanded  that  it  be  built  at  the 
West  End,  the  part  of  the  town  which 
he  owned.  At  the  approaching  town- 
meeting,  every  employee  of  Mack  Bald 
win  was  warned  to  vote  for  locating  the 

72 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

hall  at  the  West  End.  At  the  town- 
maeting  Baldwin  had  spotters  to  take 
the  names  of  any  of  his  employees  who 
voted  against  him.  I  was  working  in 
his  mill  then,  but  I  voted  for  building  the 
hall  at  the  Center.  Next  morning  I  was 
called  into  the  mill-office,  where  I  met 
Mack  Baldwin  and  his  sons,  Zechariah 
and  David.  David  is  the  present  Con 
gressman. 

"Mack  Baldwin  handed  me  my  pay, 
at  the  same  time  calling  me  a  vile  name. 
Now,  in  those  days  I  had  never  met  a 
man  who  could  handle  me,  — 

'They  are  not  plenty,    even   now/* 
said  Wycliff,  interrupting  him. 

' '  Perhaps  not ;  but  in  those  days  I 
looked  at  such  things  in  a  different  light 
from  what  I  do  now.  Since  then  I  have 
learned  the  gospel  of  forbearance,  and 
to-day  I  almost  despise  mere  brute  force; 
but  in  those  days  I  did  not  allow  anyone 
to  call  me  a  vile  name,  and  Mack  Bald 
win  had  scarcely  spoken  the  word  when 
he  lay  on  the  floor  at  my  feet.  The  two 
sons  interfered,  but  they  followed  their 

73 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

father  in  double-quick  time.  I  had  the 
three  wolves  in  a  heap,  in  their  own  den, 
in  much  less  time  than  I  am  telling  you 
of  it.  Then  the  book-keepers  interfered 
and  followed  their  employer. ' ' 

"But  I  was  terribly  frightened  when 
I  heard  of  it, ' '  said  his  wife.  ' '  I  thought 
Phillips  would  have  to  go  to  jail.  We 
were  only  engaged  then. " 

"Of  course  I  was  arrested,"  continued 
Mr.  Porter,  "and  taken  before  the  dis 
trict  court  at  Elmfield.  Judge  Tuttle, 
who  presided  over  that  court,  had  been 
a  colonel  in  the  Union  army,  and  lost  a 
leg  at  Gettysburg.  He  despised  Mack 
Baldwin,  who  made  a  million  out  of  the 
government's  distress,  by  gambling  in 
stocks  in  Wall  Street.  The  Judge  lis 
tened  patiently  while  all  the  evidence 
was  given,  although  there  seemed  to  me 
to  be  a  far-away  look  in  his  eyes,  as  if 
he  were  thinking  of  the  days  when  he 
and  Captain  Wesson  were  fighting  for 
the  Union,  while  Mack  Baldwin  was 
making  a  fortune  out  of  the  war  at 
home. 

74 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"'Mack  Baldwin/  said  the  Judge, 
'  you  discharged  the  accused  because  he 
did  not  vote  as  you  ordered  him  to,  did 
you  not?'  "  Baldwin  could  not  deny  it. 
'And  you  called  him  a  vile  name,  to 
boot?'  continued  the  Judge.  Baldwin 
admitted  it. 

'  *  'Discharged, '  thundered  Judge  Tut- 
tle,  as  if  he  were  again  giving  orders  on 
the  battle-field,  and  picking  up  his  hat 
and  cane,  he  stumped  out  of  the  court 
house  to  dinner,  while  there  were  roars 
of  applause  in  the  room  which  he  had 
left. 

"Captain  Wesson  was  in  the  court 
room,  so  as  to  go  bail  for  me  if  neces 
sary,  and  I  never  saw  a  man  more  pleased 
than  he  was.  He  offered  me  work,  if  I 
wanted,  but  the  girl  I  had  left  behind 
me,  here  in  the  country,  didn't  want  to 
live  in  Papyrus,  so  I  bought  this  farm, 
and  I  have  never  been  sorry  I  did  so. 
We  are  comfortably  off  here,  and  I  do 
not  have  to  ask  how  I  shall  vote.  Many 
of  the  mill-hands  in  Papyrus  are  little 
better  than  slaves  when  it  comes  to  vot- 

75 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

ing.  Under  the  Australian  ballot,  they 
may  vote  for  the  men  they  prefer  for 
town-officers,  but  not  for  town-appro 
priations  and  other  measures,  without 
making  themselves  liable  to  the  wrath 
of  their  employers.  The  Baldwins  never 
ceased  their  ancient  policy  of  discharg 
ing  and  driving  out  of  town,  if  possible, 
any  of  their  workmen  who  opposed  their 
policy  in  town-affairs  by  voice  or  vote. " 

In  the  afternoon  the  entire  party  of 
Porters  and  Wycliffs  drove  to  Twin 
Mountain,  near  by,  there  being  a  wood- 
road,  almost  to  the  summit,  nearly  as 
good  as  the  average  mountain  highway. 

Sixty  miles  eastward  was  Mount  Wa- 
chusett,  seen  to-day  very  dimly,  and 
only  visible  at  all  in  the  clearest  weather. 
Nearer,  guarding  the  Connecticut  Valley, 
were  Mount  Tom  and  Mount  Holyoke. 

"Say,  pop,  what  mountain  is  that?" 
It  looks  like  a  pyramid  from  here." 

"That  is  Monadnock.  What  state  is 
it  in,  Robbie?" 

"In  New  Hampshire,"  answered  the 
boy,  proud  to  exhibit  his  knowledge  of 

76 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

the  geography  of  the  states  hereabouts. 

''And  there,  very  dim,  scarcely  more 
than  a  blue  line  in  the  west,  are  the 
Catskills  and  Adirondacks.  I  don't  be 
lieve  you  remember  where  they  are." 

' '  Surely  I  do.  What  did  I  go  to  school 
for?  They  are  in  New  York. " 

'  'And  that  beautiful  mountain  close  by. 
Can  you  tell  the  name  of  the  highest 
mountain  in  our  own  state?" 

"Greylock,  or  Saddle  Mountain." 

' '  We  have  a  view  here  of  portions  of 
New  York,  Connecticut,  New  Hampshire 
and  Vermont,  besides  a  large  portion  of 
Massachusetts." 

"And  this  mountain-top  is  to  be  sold 
very  cheap,"  said  Mr.  Porter.  "Mr. 
Daniels,  the  owner,  is  in  California,  in 
poor  health,  and  has  directed  me  to  sell 
it  for  fifteen  hundred  dollars.  There  are 
three  hundred  acres  in  the  farm,  one 
hundred  acres  being  heavy  wood  and 
timber,  one  hundred  and  fifty  acres  pas 
ture,  and  fifty  acres  good  tillage  land. 
The  house  is  comfortable,  and  the  barn 
excellent.  But  I  hardly  need  to  tell  you, 

77 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

as  you  are  familiar  with  farms  about 
here.  Only  for  its  location,  so  far  from 
railroad,  it  would  bring  many  times  the 
price  asked.  As  it  is,  it  is  the  best  bar 
gain  I  know  of.  I  would  be  glad  to  pay 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  fifty 
acres  of  the  pasture,  which  joins  mine, 
but  I  don't  want  the  whole." 

"  What  do  you  say,  ma?"  asked  Wyc- 
liff  of  his  wife.  "It's  the  best  bargain 
I've  heard  of  in  many  a  day.  We're  not 
obliged  to  live  on  it,  you  know,  we  can 
rent  it." 

* '  Buy  it  if  you  think  best, ' '  replied  his 
wife.  '  *  We  may  be  glad  to  use  it  for  a 
summer  home,  if  we  are  prospered." 

"I'd  like  to  live  here  the  whole  year," 
said  Robbie.  ' '  It  must  be  fine  coasting 
here  in  the  winter. ' ' 

"We  get  snow  in  July  from  the  Bear's 
Den,"  said  Mrs.  Porter. 

' '  I  will  take  the  farm  at  fifteen  hun 
dred  dollars,  and  you  may  have  the  fifty- 
acre  tract  on  your  own  terms, "  said  Wyc. 
iiff. 

Just  then  Robbie,  who  had  wandered 

78 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

a  few  rods  in  advance  of  the  rest  of  the 
party,  came  running  back. 

"  Oh,  ma,  come  quick!  Here  are  some 
deer,  just  like  those  we  used  to  see  on 
Mrs.  Colt's  grounds,  in  Hartford.  Pop 
is  right.  This  is  God's  country,  all  right. " 

Sure  enough,  there  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluff  were  a  half  dozen  of  the  beautiful 
creatures. 

''They  seem  to  understand  that  the 
law  protects  them,"  said  Mrs.  Porter. 
' '  Sometimes  they  come  into  the  barn 
yard  with  the  cattle." 


79 


CHAPTER  VII. 


I  want  you  to  give 
Joel  Byron  his  old  place  in  the 
mill.  I  do  not  approve  of  discharging 
workmen  for  their  politics.  '  ' 

"I  shall  do  no  such  thing,  Sister  Eva. 
Byron  was  not  discharged  for  his  poli 
tics,  but  for  attempting  to  create  discon 
tent  among  his  fellow-  workmen.  " 

'  '  The  petition  to  the  Selectmen,  which 
Byron  circulated,  asking  for  an  evening 
session  of  town-meeting,  was  a  perfectly 
respectful  one,  was  it  not?" 

'  '  If  you  mean  respectful  to  the  Select 
men,  —  yes  ;  if  you  mean  respectful  to 
us,  —  no!" 

"How  so?" 

"We,  who  own  the  town,  ought  to  say 
what  its  taxes  should  be.  Our  employees, 
who  pay  only  poll  taxes,  should  not  vote 
taxes  for  us  to  pay.  If  the  appropria 
tions  for  town  expenses  were  made  at  an 
evening  session,  as  they  are  in  some 
Massachusetts  towns,  our  workmen  could 

80 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

vote,  and  load  us  down  with  taxes. 
Under  Massachusetts  law,  mill-hands 
can  remain  away  from  their  work  only 
two  hours.  This  law  does  not  apply  to 
town-meeting-,  but  we  give  our  workmen 
the  benefit  of  it.  Our  workmen  can 
come  and  vote  for  town-officers  by  se 
cret  ballot,  and  get  back  to  the  mills 
within  the  two  hours.  After  they  are 
safely  away  from  town-meeting,  and  at 
work  again,  we  pass  the  appropriations. " 

"You  don't  believe  in  popular  govern 
ment,  then?" 

"I  don't  believe  that  a  man  who  pays 
only  two  dollars  tax,  should  be  the  equal 
of  one  who  pays  ten  thousand  dollars 
taxes,  when  it  comes  to  voting  appro 
priations." 

4 'But  what  would  become  of  popular 
government,  and  of  our  free  institutions, 
if  your  ideas  prevailed?" 

"I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care.  You 
have  about  as  much  sense  as  a  hen,  Eva, 
when  it  comes  to  business." 

"Have  I?  Very  well.  I  have  about 
as  much  influence  as  a  hen,  if  you  please, 

81 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

in  the  management  of  the  Baldwin  Mills, 
although  my  father  left  me  a  two-mill 
ion-dollar  interest  in  these  mills.  Now, 
Zechariah,  I  have  been  a  mere  cipher  in 
this  business  long  enough.  There  is  a 
New  York  gentleman  who  will  gladly 
pay  me  every  dollar  my  interest  in  the 
Baldwin  Mills  is  worth.  He  will  not  be 
a  cipher  in  the  concern  as  I  have  been, 
and  he  has  opinions  of  his  own  as  to  the 
rights  of  workingmen.  He  will  not  see 
his  employees'  interests  trodden  under 
foot  without  uttering  a  protest  which 
will  be  heard,  not  only  throughout  the 
State,  but  throughout  the  Nation. 

' '  I  give  you  fair  warning.  One  week 
from  to-day,  unless  you  and  David  make 
a  fair  division  of  the  property  with  me, 
I  shall  deed  my  interest  in  the  Baldwin 
Mills  to  the  New  Yorker.  Don't  say  I 
didn't  give  you  fair  warning.  You  will 
have  a  partner,  if  I  sell  out,  who  will  be 
able  to  protect  both  himself  and  his 
workmen.  We'll  see  whether  I  have  as 
much  sense  as  a  hen  in  this  business. " 

The  black  eyes  snapped  fiercely,  and 

82 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Eva  Baldwin  swept  out  of  the  room  with 
out  giving  her  brother  a  chance  to  reply. 
He  immediately  summoned  David  home 
from  Washington.  The  Congressman 
had  often  made  peace  between  his  brother 
and  sister,  but  he  found  it  impossible  to 
patch  up  any  kind  of  a  truce  this  time. 
In  vain  he  made  promises. 

''You've  made  promises  before,  David 
Baldwin,  and  then  you've  let  Zechariah 
cheat  the  workingmen  out  of  their  votes 
again,  just  the  same  as  before.  You're 
standing  before  the  country  as  the  work- 
ingman's  friend,  when  really  you  are  an 
impostor.  Some  day  the  country  will 
find  you  out.  The  man  who  stands  by 
and  sees  his  workmen  defrauded  of  the 
right  to  vote  appropriations  for  their 
own  homes,  is  just  as  big  a  villain  as  the 
man  who  does  the  dirty  work  himself." 

These  were  Eva  Baldwin's  plain  words. 
Only  one  day  was  left  of  her  week's  no 
tice,  and  still  no  agreement. 

*  *  You  are  not  going  to  carry  out  your 
threat,  are  you  Eva?"  asked  the  Con 
gressman. 

83 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"It  is  not  a  threat.  I  am  simply  not 
going  to  be  a  partner  in  this  iniquity  any 
longer.  If  I  sell  out  it  will  be  to  a  man 
who  thinks  as  I  do  about  the  workman's 
rights.  I'm  ready  to  draw  the  papers." 

* '  I  think  it  is  a  bad  move,  both  for  you 
and  for  us,"  was  the  brother's  reply; 
' '  but  you  have  the  advantage  of  us.  Of 
course  we  cannot  admit  a  stranger  to 
ownership  in  the  Baldwin  Mills,  so  we 
make  this  proposition  :  Calling  your  in 
terest  two  millions,  we  will  give  you  the 
Liberty  Mill,  at  one  and  one-half  million 
dollars,  and  pay  you  the  balance. ' ' 

This  offer  was  accepted  and  Eva  Bald 
win  became  owner  of  the  Liberty  Mill. 

Town-meeting  day  arrived.  The  move 
ment  for  an  evening  session  had  appar 
ently  died. 

Back  of  the  town  hall  was  the  office  of 
Ford  Hulbert,  auctioneer  and  real  estate 
agent.  On  the  morning  of  town-meet 
ing  Hulbert 's  front  entrance  was  closed, 
locked,  and  a  curtain  drawn.  In  the  rear 
his  office  opened  upon  a  long  alley  run 
ning  back  to  an  unfrequented  street 

84 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

called  Back  Lane.  Had  anyone  watched 
Back  Lane  that  morning  from  daylight 
to  ten  o'clock,  he  would  have  seen  an  oc 
casional  lonely  voter  pass  quietly  along 
the  street,  up  the  long  alley,  and  into 
the  rear  door  of  Hulbert's  office.  They 
did  not  attract  suspicion.  One  by  one 
they  passed  in,  like  flies  into  a  trap,  but 
none  of  them  came  out. 

Ten  o'clock  came.  In  the  town-hall 
less  than  twenty  voters  were  present, 
mostly  Baldwin  sympathizers.  Every 
word  spoken  was  heard  in  Hulbert's 
office. 

' '  The  time  has  arrived  for  calling  this 
meeting  to  order, ' '  said  the  town  clerk, 
who  then  read  the  warrant. 

"  Prepare  your  ballots  for  a  moder 
ator,  ' '  commanded  the  Clerk.  But  now 
the  rear  door  opened,  and  in  filed  forty 
voters  from  Hulbert's  office.  After  the 
choice  of  a  moderator  and  a  few  minor 
town-officers,  Mr.  Hulbert  arose  and 
said  :— 

"  I  move  that  this  meeting,  except  the 
balloting  for  town-officers,  be  adjourned 

85 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

to  seven-thirty  o'clock  this    evening." 

"I  second  the  motion,"  said  John 
Wycliff. 

A  chorus  of  objections  arose  from  the 
Baldwin  party. 

"  Question  !"  shouted  Hulbert  with  his 
auctioneer's  lungs.  "A  motion  to  ad 
journ,  Mr.  Moderator,  is  not  debatable." 

4 'Question  !  question!  question!"  the 
forty  followers  yelled,  at  the  top  of  their 
lungs. 

"  Right  you  are  ;  a  motion  to  adjourn 
is  not  debatable,"  said  the  Moderator,  as 
soon  as  he  could  make  himself  heard. 
' '  You  hear  the  motion ;  all  in  favor  of 
adjourning  this  meeting  to  seven-thirty 
o'clock  this  evening,  will  signify  it  by 
saying  Aye;  contrary  minds,  No.  It  is  a 
vote." 

"Disputed!  disputed!"  the  Baldwin 
forces  yelled,  as  they  now  saw  other 
voters  coming,  and  hoped  for  reinforce 
ments  by  delay. 

'  'All  in  favor  of  this  motion  raise  your 
right  hands,"  said  the  Moderator.  "I 
see  forty-two  hands.  Now  all  opposed, 

86 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

raise  your  right  hands.  I  see  seventeen 
hands.  The  motion  is  carried.  This 
meeting  is  adjourned  until  seven-thirty 
o'clock  this  evening." 

The  trap  of  Ford  Hulbert's  setting  had 
sprung  neatly,  and  caught  the  Baldwins 
napping.  It  had  been  customary  to  ad 
journ  until  two  o'clock,  hence  the  small 
number  present,  and  the  ease  with  which 
Hulbert's  strategy  succeeded.  For  the 
first  time  in  many  years  the  mill-hands 
would  have  a  chance  to  vote  on  the 
money  to  be  spent  for  their  schools,  high 
ways,  and  other  expenses. 

At  the  evening  session  Zechariah  Bald 
win  took  the  floor,  and  said  : 

"It  was  a  mean,  contemptible  trick  to 
adjourn  town-meeting  to  this  hour.  No 
decent  man  would  take  part  in  such  a 
game." 

Ford  Hulbert  sprang  to  his  feet. 

* '  Mr.  Moderator  :  There  is  one  gentle 
man  by  the  name  of  Baldwin,  whom  we 
all  delight  to  honor.  Let  us  hear  from 
our  Congressman. ' ' 

Amid  cheers  the  Congressman  rose 

87 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

and  said  :  * '  I  am  satisfied  with  this  ar 
rangement  if  it  meets  the  popular  will. 
Let  us  get  to  business. " 

He  was  too  wise  to  show  the  anger 
which  he  felt. 

The  business  of  the  town-meeting  was 
marked  out  by  a  committee  consisting  of 
all  the  larger  property-owners  in  the 
town,  and  one  common  laborer.  It  was 
through  this  "Financial  Committee" 
that  the  Baldwins  largely  controlled 
town-meeting,  and  the  one  lonely  laborer 
showed  how  lightly  they  esteemed  the 
class  that  had  made  them  wealthy. 

To-day  the  improvement  of  a  certain 
street,  the  home  of  laborers,  was  under 
discussion.  Sheriff  Burse,  an  agent  of 
the  Baldwins,  arose,  and  in  a  husky 
voice,  like  the  whisper  of  the  wind  thro' 
the  pine  woods,  said  that  the  Financial 
Committee  did  not  approve  the  appro 
priation.  True,  a  dozen  vehicles  had 
been  overturned  on  that  street  recently, 
but,  according  to  the  Sheriff,  it  was  the 
fault  of  the  drivers.  The  matter  was  con 
sidered  settled,  when  a  sleepy-looking 

88 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

little  man  arose  and  addressed  the  Chair. 

"Uncle  Jerry  Barnaby,"  whispered 
the  crowd.  ' '  There'll  be  fun  now. ' ' 

Uncle  Jerry  was  the  wit  of  the  town. 
It  is  hard  to  define  wit.  In  Uncle  Jerry's 
case  his  appearance  had  much  to  do  with 
the  laughter  which  greeted  him.  He 
was  a  sad-looking,  wild-eyed  little  man, 
whose  "  little  body,"  as  he  expressed  it, 
"was  tired  carrying  around  his  big 
brain." 

"Mr.  Moderator." 

"Mr.  Barnaby." 

"  It  is  true,  as  Sheriff  Burse  has  said, 
that  a  man  may  drive  through  Hodgson 
Street  safely.  By  using  great  care,  by 
dodging  rocks  and  sand-banks,  and  by 
the  special  favor  of  Divine  Providence, 
he  may  live  to  drive  through  that  street ; 
but  I  would  advise  him,  before  attempt 
ing  it,  to  place  a  good  big  insurance  on 
his  life,  and  to  kiss  his  wife  and  children 
farewell.  As  has  been  said,  Mr.  Mod 
erator,  a  man  may  drive  through  Hodg 
son  street  safely  ;  a  perfectly  sober  man 
may  drive  through  a  wood-lot,  but— 

89 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

In  the  uproar  which  followed,  Uncle 
Jerry  never  finished  his  sentence.  It 
was  voted  to  repair  Hodgson  Street. 

The  secret  balloting,  during  the  day, 
elected  Hugh  Maxwell  Selectman,  and 
the  Baldwins  failed  in  their  efforts  to 
force  Jacob  Sharp  upon  the  voters. 

There  was  a  proposition  to  increase 
the  pay  of  the  police  from  two  dollars  to 
two  dollars  and  a  half  per  night.  There 
was  much  opposition  to  the  increase,  its 
general  drift  being  that  the  policemen 
were  already  well  paid,  when  Uncle  Jerry 
was  again  recognized  by  the  Moderator. 
Congressman  Baldwin  frowned,  and  a 
reflection  of  his  frown  was  seen  upon 
the  face  of  the  Moderator,  who  was 
obliged  to  recognize  the  mirth-provok 
ing  Barnaby. 

He  immediately  began  a  somewhat 
rambling  oration,  which  he  had  been 
declaiming  in  his  own  house  for  weeks, 
and  which  was  intended  to  set  forth  the 
faithful  services  of  the  policemen.  The 
audience  was  soon  convulsed  with  laugh 
ter,  and  it  was  impossible  for  the  Mod- 

90 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

erator  to  check  him,  as  almost  every 
body  in  the  hall  was  encouraging  him  by 
laughter  and  applause. 

Uncle  Jerry  was  thoroughly  in  earnest. 
He  could  see  no  occasion  for  mirth. 

"When  all  sounds  of  industry  are 
stilled, "  said  Uncle  Jerry,  "when  the 
fond  mother  lies  asleep  with  the  darling 
babe  on  her  bosom,— 

"Speak  on  the  question,  Mr.  Barna- 
by  !"  roared  the  Moderator. 

"  I  am  speaking  on  the  question,  Mr. 
Moderator — when  the  demon  tongues  of 
fire  leap  up  in  the  basement,  and  threaten 
your  lovely  home,  threaten  to  envelop  in 
their  horrible  embrace  all  that  you  hold 
dearest  on  earth, — that  fond  wife  and 
loving  mother  and  that  darling  infant  on 
the  mother's  breast,  — 

"Come  to  the  point,  Mr.  Barnaby !" 

"  I  am  coming  to  the  point,  Mr.  Mod 
erator,  just  as  fast  as  I  can,  but  you 
make  me  lose  my  place.  When  the  de 
vouring  flames,  Mr.  Moderator,  threaten 
to  embrace  that  fond  wife  and  loving 
mother  and  darling  infant  on  the  mother's 

91 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

breast, — it  is  the  watchful  eye  of  the 
vigilant  policeman,  Mr.  Moderator — , ' ' 

The  allusion  to  the  'Vigilant  police 
men"  of  Papyrus  was  the  last  straw. 
The  audience  reveled  in  such  a  fit  of  un 
controlled  laughter  that  Uncle  Jerry 
never  proceeded  further.  Meanwhile 
the  friends  of  the  policemen  thought  it 
a  favorable  time  to  take  a  vote. 

"  Question  !"  shouted  one. 

"  Question  !"  echoed  a  hundred.  The 
policemen  won. 

The  most  important  question  taken  up 
was  that  of  a  sewer.  Physicians  and 
others  testified  to  the  wretched  sanitary 
conditions  which  made  Papyrus  one  of 
the  most  unhealthy  towns  in  the  state, 
for  the  lack  of  a  sewer.  Deacon  Sur 
face,  the  most  adroit  speaker  in  Papy 
rus,  answered  them.  He  said  that  the 
taxes  were  too  high.  At  t  h  e  proper 
time  the  "men  who  owned  the  town" 
would  be  ready  for  a  sewer,  but  not  yet. 
He  omitted  to  say  that  the  Baldwins 
paid  taxes  on  less  than  half  the  true 
value  of  their  property  in  Papyrus.  He 

92 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

omitted  to  say,  also,  that  the  Baldwins 
had  recently  given  to  the  city  of  Elm- 
field,  for  something  much  less  needed 
than  a  sewer,  a  larger  sum  than  it  would 
cost  to  build  several  sewer-systems  for 
Papyrus.  The  Deacon's  speech  was  elo 
quent,  polished,  and  well-rounded  —  a 
beautiful  bubble,  needing  only  the  pin 
point  of  truth  to  explode  it.  Ford  Hul- 
bert  was  just  thinking  it  his  duty  to  ap 
ply  the  pin  to  the  bubble,  when  the  irre 
pressible  Barnaby  rose. 

'  *  Mr.  Moderator, ' '  piped  the  wild-eyed 
little  man. 

"Mr.  Barnaby,"  groaned  the  Modera 
tor. 

' '  Mr.  Moderator.  I  want  to  congratu 
late  Deacon  Surface  on  making  the  most 
eloquent  speech  I  have  ever  heard  in  this 
hall.  Among  all  the  facts  which  he 
gave  us,  it  is  strange  that  he  overlooked 
one  fact — one  cold,  scientific  truth— bear 
ing  on  the  question." 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  a  hundred  voices. 
Even  Deacon  Surface  arose,  turned  tow 
ard  Uncle  Jerry,  and  joined  in  the  ques- 

93 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

tion.  Then,  when  you  could  have  heard 
a  pin  drop,  and  the  silence  was  becom 
ing  oppressive,  the  piping  voice  said:— 

"One  cold,  scientific  fact,  Mr.  Moder 
ator,  just  as  true  as  the  facts  he  gave 
us, — the  moon  is  made  of  green  cheese, 
Mr.  Moderator." 

Deacon  Surface  collapsed  with  his  bub 
ble  argument,  while  the  audience  went 
wild.  But  the  sewer  was  lost.  The  em 
ployees  of  Zechariah  and  David  Baldwin, 
in  a  matter  involving  so  large  an  outlay, 
dared  not  openly  vote  against  their  mas 
ters. 

Not  until  we  have  the  secret  ballot  for 
measures,  as  well  as  for  men,  will  there 
be  political  freedom  in  Massachusetts 
towns. 


94 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

JOHN  WYCLIFF'S  den  had  become 
well  known  as  a  resort  for  working- 
men,  and  people  in  other  walks  of  life 
were  occasionally  to  be  found  in  consul 
tation  with  him.  Ford  Hulbert,  a  real 
estate  and  insurance  agent,  was  an  occa 
sional  caller. 

"You  knew  Wells  Boardman,  who  was 
recently  killed  in  an  accident  on  the  Pa 
pyrus  Electric  Street  Railway?"  asked 
Hulbert. 

"Yes,  very  well;  an  old  neighbor 
when  we  lived  out  in  the  country.  His 
daughter,  Lena,  was  one  of  the  best  girls 
I  ever  met.  Her  laugh  would  do  one 
more  good  than  medicine  sometimes.  A 
half  hour  with  her  was  a  sure  cure  for 
the  blues." 

"I  don't  need  to  tell  you  much  about 
her,  then." 

* '  No,  you  do  not.  I  have  known  her 
from  the  cradle  up.  A  better  girl  or 
woman  was  never  raised  on  the  hills. 

95 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

She  was  a  rollicking,  laughing,  singing 
sunbeam,  and  never  a  thought  of  wrong  in 
it  all.  Many  a  heart  has  been  tangled 
in  those  brown  curls  of  hers,  though.  It 
seems  strange  to  me  now,  as  I  look  back, 
that  I  was  not  one  of  the  victims ;  but, 
then,  we  were  too  much  like  a  sister  and 
brother  for  that. " 

There  was  a  pause,  broken  by  Mr.  Hul- 
bert. 

She  made  an  early  and  unfortunate 
marriage,  I  believe?" 

"Yes;  she  left  the  hills,  and  came 
down  into  this  dull  valley.  She  brought 
the  sparkle  of  the  mountain  brook,  and 
the  melody  of  the  bobolinks  with  her. 
Wherever  she  went  there  was  a  ripple  of 
laughter,  a  burst  of  sunshine,  a  peal  of 
music.  Such  a  girl  could  riot  be  without 
admirers.  She  had  plenty  of  them. 
And  then, — what  did  she  do?  Deliber 
ately  picked  out  the  worst  one  in  the 
whole  lot, — a  drunken  libertine,  a  man 
with  whom  scarcely  any  other  respect 
able  woman  would  be  seen  crossing  the 
street." 

96 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"Why  did  she  do  it?" 

"I  cannot  tell.  Some  thought  it  was 
because  he  had  more  money  than  her 
other  admirers,  but  that  may  have  been 
unjust  to  her.  Whatever  the  reason, 
she  had  plenty  of  reason  to  regret  her 
decision  when  it  was  too  late." 

"And  then?"  queried  Hulbert,  as  Wyc- 
liff  remained  silent  for  several  minutes, 
and  showed  no  disposition  to  resume  the 
conversation. 

Just  what  might  have  been  expected. 
The  scoundrel  cared  nothing  for  her  and 
was  soon  running  after  other  women, 
just  as  though  he  had  no  wife,  to  whom 
he  had  vowed  fidelity.  They  had  chil 
dren, — two  of  them,  and  she  remained 
several  years  for  her  children's  sake. 
But  it  became  more  than  flesh  and  blood 
could  endure.  He  was  continually  abus 
ing  her,  in  the  hope  that  she  would  leave 
him.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  heard  of  a 
man  who  turned  his  son  out  of  doors, 
and  then  whipped  him  for  leaving  home. 
Lena's  husband  was  just  about  as  con 
sistent  as  that.  He  treated  her  so  con- 

97 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

temptibly,  that  if  she  had  not  left  him, 
she  must  have  gone  crazy.  Then  he 
said  that  his  wife  '  could  not  have  had 
much  love  for  the  children,  else  she 
would  not  have  left  them  ;'— the  lying 
wretch.  I  have  lived  in  places  where  he 
would  have  had  a  coat  of  tar  and  feath 
ers." 

" And  then?"  pursued  Mr.  Hulbert, 
who  seemed  anxious  to  have  Wycliff  con 
tinue. 

''Well,  not  exactly  what  the  villain 
had  been  planning  for.  He  expected  to 
secure  a  divorce  for  desertion,  and  to 
marry  another  woman  who  had  attracted 
his  wandering  affections,  but  his  wife 
secured  the  divorce,  and  the  care  of  the 
children." 

"And  now,"  said  Hulbert,  in  a  low 
tone  of  voice,  *  'an  honest  man  who  act 
ually  loves  her,  will  find  it  very  difficult 
to  convince  her  of  his  loyalty  to  her." 

Wycliff  glanced  up  quickly. 

"You  are  an  admirer  of  Lena?" 

"Yes,  but  we  had  a  break.  We  had  a 
falling-out  the  evening  you  left  Beauna 

98 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Vista.  We  were  watering  our  horses, 
sheltered  from  your  sight  by  the  hemlock 
bushes.  I  made  a  remark  about  Mr. 
Sharp,  in  connection  with  the  church, 
which  offended  her." 

' '  Yes,  she  is  very  loyal  to  the  church  ; 
but  the  church  has  hardly  kept  its 
pledges  to  her  in  her  trouble.  I  did  not 
know  that  there  were  any  disinterested 
witnesses  of  my  difference  with  Sharp, 
else  I  might  have  proceeded  differently." 

"But  now  I  must  do  my  errand,"  re 
sumed  Hulbert.  * '  I  came  to  see  you  be 
cause  Miss  Boardman  could  not  come, 
and  she  wishes  your  advice.  Zechariah 
Baldwin,  for  the  Papyrus  Electric  Street 
Railway  Company,  has  offered  her  three 
thousand  dollars  in  settlement  for  her 
father's  death." 

"The  company  acknowledges  its  lia 
bility,  then?" 

"Yes;  the  only  question  is  as  to  the 
amount  which  shall  be  paid." 

' '  Isn't  Congressman  Baldwin  a  stock 
holder  in  the  company?" 

' '  Yes  ;  he  is  the  heaviest  stockholder. ' ' 

99 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

' '  Of  course,  you  know  that  the  State 
of  Massachusetts,  some  years  ago,  obey 
ing  the  demands  of  the  railroad  corpo 
rations,  which  were  killing  a  great  many 
people,  made  a  law  that  not  more  than 
five  thousand  dollars  could  be  collected 
for  a  human  life,  lost  through  the  fault 
of  a  railroad  corporation.  It's  an  infa 
mous  law,  but  it's  there,  all  the  same." 

"Miss  Boardman  wants  your  advice 
as  to  whether  she  shall  accept  the  three 
thousand  dollars." 

"Has  she  called  upon  Congressman 
Baldwin?" 

No,  and  she  will  not  do  so.  She  has 
too  much  independence  for  that.  She 
will  not  go  to  him." 

"Tell  Lena  not  to  be  in  a  hurry,  to 
wait  a  few  days,  and  I  will  see  if  I  can 
do  anything  for  her." 

"All  right ;  if  you  can  help  her  any  she 
will  do  the  fair  thing  by  you.  She  ought 
to  receive  much  more  than  they  offer 
her.  Goodnight." 

Wycliff  sat  alone  some  time  after  his 
visitor  had  gone,  looking  into  the  fire, 

100 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

and  thinking  of  many  things.  One  of 
his  long-cherished  idols  had  been  gradu 
ally  dethroned.  He  had  been,  before 
coming  to  Papyrus,  a  great  admirer  of 
Congressman  Baldwin.  It  was  hard  for 
him  to  give  up  his  political  idol,  but  he 
had  seen  the  workingmen  of  Papyrus 
defrauded  of  their  votes,  and  Congress 
man  Baldwin  a  silent  and  satisfied  wit 
ness  of  the  robbery.  One  word  from 
Congressman  Baldwin,  who  was  the  po 
litical  boss  of  the  State,  would  have 
blotted  from  the  statute  books  of  Massa 
chusetts  the  damnable  * '  Five-Thousand- 
Dollar  Law;"  but  Congressman  Bald 
win  never  spoke  the  word.  Instead, 
his  puppets  at  Boston  voted  to  retain 
the  law,  which  shielded  railroad  and 
street  railway  corporations  from  just 
punishment  for  deaths  caused  by  them, 
and  robbed  families  of  their  victims. 
Wycliff  himself,  by  David  Baldwin's  or 
ders,  had  been  blacklisted  in  all  the  Bald 
win  industries.  The  spotless  Deacon 
Surface  had  notified  every  concern  con 
trolled  by  the  Baldwins  not  to  give  em- 

101 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

ployment  to  John  Wycliff.  This  was 
more  than  his  idolatry  would  bear.  A 
man  will  forgive  many  things,  but  ought 
he  to  forgive  the  man  who  tries  to  take 
the  bread  away  from  his  family  ? 

John  Wycliff  looked  up  at  the  face  of 
Congressman  Baldwin,  on  the  wall  oppo 
site.  He  arose  and  took  down  the  por 
trait 

' '  What  on  earth  are  you  doing,  John?" 
asked  his  wife,  summoned  from  another 
room  by  the  noise  of  breaking  glass  and 
splintering  wood. 

Bare  feet  came  pattering  down  the 
stairs  from  the  chamber  above. 

"Say,  pop;  what's  up?" 

"Robbie,  what  did  the  Israelites  do 
every  time  they  got  a  chance?  What 
did  the  Lord  have  to  punish  them  for, 
very  often?" 

' '  Worshipping  idols. ' ' 

"And  once  in  a  while,  after  being  pun 
ished  enough,  what  would  they  do?" 

"  Burn  up  their  idols." 

' '  That's  right.  That's  what  I've  been 
doing.  Now  I'll  kiss  you  both  if  you'll 

102 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

clear  out,  and  leave  me  alone,  to  write." 
He  then  wrote  a  letter  to  an  old  friend 
and  schoolmate,  now  an  editor  in  Charles 
ton,  South  Carolina.  From  that  letter 
the  following  is  extract  taken  :— 

"You  have  frequently  requested  me 
to  write  something  for  your  paper,  a  re 
quest  which  I  have  been  very  slow  to 
comply  with.  I  do  not  suppose  you  wish 
me  to  write  your  editorials,  and  the  en 
closed  article  is  only  intended  as  a  hint 
of  the  way  in  which  I  would  use  the  facts 
referred  to." 

Within  a  week  the  whole  country 
echoed  with  the  first  public  attack  ever 
made  upon  Congressman  Baldwin.  The 
attack  was  made  by  a  Charleston,  South 
Carolina,  newspaper,  and  every  political 
paper  in  the  country  was  immediately 
drawn  into  the  combat,  either  as  an  as 
sailant  or  defender  of  the  Congressman. 
Congressman  Baldwin  in  a  public  speech, 
had  commented  bitterly  upon  the  cheap 
ness  of  human  life  in  the  South  ;  and 
now  every  Southern  newspaper,  and 
many  of  their  Northern  sympathizers, 
were  revenged  upon  him.  The  following 

103 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

paragraphs  from  the  Charleston  paper 
formed  the  key-note  of  their  attack  :— 

"  We  have  listened,  and  so  has  the 
rest  of  the  country,  while  this  immacu 
late  and  infallible  Baldwin  upbraided  us 
for  the  cheapness  of  a  human  life  in  the 
Sou'h.  What  is  the  value  of  human  life 
in  Congressman  Baldwin's  own  model 
town  of  Papyrus,  in  the  model  state  of 
Massachusetts?  Congressman  Baldwin's 
trolley  company  takes  the  life  of  a  man 
earning  fifteen  hundred  dollars  a  year, 
and  in  full  payment  for  that  life,  it  offers 
the  victim's  family  three  thousand  dol 
lars.  The  Savings  Banks  offer  the  safest 
investment  for  widows  and  orphans. 
Should  they  accept,  they  would  receive 
from  the  savings  bank,  at  three  and  a 
half  per  cent., — one  hundred  and  five 
dollars  a  year. 

"To  sum  up  the  case  :  Congressman 
Baldwin's  railway  takes  a  life  worth  fif 
teen  hundred  dollars  a  year  to  the  vic 
tim's  family,  and  offers  that  family  one 
hundred  and  five  dollars  a  year  in  full 
settlement.  And  yet  Congressman  Bald 
win  says  that  human  life  is  cheap,— in 
the  South.  Under  Massachusetts  law  a 
railway  company  cannot  be  obliged  to 
pay  more  than  five  thousand  dollars  for 

104 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

taking  a  human  life,  while  under  a  just 
law,  like  that  of  New  York,  a  railroad 
corporation  has  been  compelled  to  pay 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  a  hu 
man  life,  lost  through  its  negligence.  A 
jury  awarded  that  sum  against  the  New 
York  Central  for  a  victim  of  the  Park 
Avenue  tunnel  disaster  of  1902. 

"Congressman  Baldwin  is  the  political 
boss  of  his  state,  and  responsible  for  that 
law  which  says  to  all  the  world  that  Mas 
sachusetts  has  no  man  whose  life  is  worth 
more  than  five  thousand  dollars.  Yet 
South  Carolina  once  had  slaves  whose 
masters  would  not  part  with  them  for 
that  sum.  The  explanation  is  simple. 
Baldwin  has  millions  in  railroads. 

"One  more  item  and  we  are  done. 
Baldwin  and  other  Massachusetts  states 
men  declaim  loudly  against  negro  dis- 
franchisement  in  the  South  :  'Consist 
ency  is  'a  jewel.'  Baldwin's  own  mill- 
hands  cannot  vote  on  town- appropria 
tions.  Under  the  Massachusetts  law 
they  must  stay  in  the  mills  and  add  to 
the  Baldwin  millions,  while  he  'runs  the 
town. '  Southerners  say  the  black  man 
is  not  fit  to  run  the  State.  Baldwin  of 
Massachusetts  says  his  white  mill-hands 
are  not  fit  to  run  the  Town.  And  he  has 
Massachusetts  law  with  him.  'People 

105 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

who  live  in  glass  houses  should  not  throw 
stones. '  ' 

For  weeks  David  Baldwin  was  the  re 
cipient  of  more  unfriendly  criticism  than 
any  other  public  man  in  Washington. 
The  humble  cause  of  all  this  trouble 
rolled  his  one  gray  eye,  saying  :— 

"Blacklist  me  again  for  telling  the 
truth,  will  you?  Shut  your  eyes  again, 
while  your  workmen's  votes  are  stolen, 
Dave  Baldwin  !" 

Long  before  the  battle  was  over  the 
Congressman  became  very  weary  of  it, 
and  sent  the  following  directions  to 
his  brother,  Zechariah  :— 

"Pay  Wells  Boardman's  daughter 
twenty  thousand  dollars.  Charge  five 
thousand  dollars  to  Papyrus  Electric 
Railway,  and  balance  to  me. ' ' 

The  news  of  this  generous  payment 
was  spread  throughout  the  country,  and 
took  the  edge  off  the  criticism  of  Bald 
win. 

"Is  that  you,  Lena?"  asked  Mrs.  Wyc- 
liff,  one  evening. 

"I  think   it  is,"   was  the  answer. 

106 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"  Here's  a  check  for  a  thousand  dollars, 
for  your  husband.  Tell  him  he  has 
earned  it.  I  have  said  all  along  that 
John  could  make  the  Baldwins  toe  the 
mark.  He  is  almost  the  only  one  about 
here  who  is  not  afraid  of  them,  and  he  is 
the  only  one  who  hits  them  in  the  only 
place  where  they  feel  it, — in  the  news 
papers.  They  don't  care  anything  about 
right  and  wrong,  God,  man  or  the  devil, 
but  they  don't  like  to  have  their  injus 
tice  shown  up  in  the  newspapers,  or  in 
the  courts.  They  don't  fear  God,  or  His 
Word,  or  the  Judgment  Day,  but  they 
are  afraid  of  newspapers  and  courts.  I 
don't  care  for  the  twenty  thousand  dol 
lars  myself,  but  with  the  income  from  it 
I  can  give  my  boys  a  good  education. 
Tell  John  I  hear  that  Zack  Baldwin  will 
give  a  thousand  dollars  to  get  him  out  of 
town.  This  thousand  is  for  him  to 
stay." 


107 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  FREQUENT  caller  at  the  Wycliff 
home  was  "Uncle  Jerry"  Bar- 
naby.  He  was  always  welcome,  being 
an  old  friend,  the  acquaintance  between 
the  two  families  dating  back  to  the  time 
when  both  occupied  farms  in  Spruce- 
mont — the  little  hill-town,  richer  in  broad 
views  and  fresh  air  than  in  salable  com 
modities. 

"Oh,  I  was  a  king,  then!"  said  Uncle 
Jerry.  "Only  think  of  those  beautiful 
fields  of  grass  and  grain  that  I  used  to 
have." 

"And  how  much  labor  you  spent  in 
getting  out  the  rocks  and  improving  the 
land,  before  you  could  have  those  crops," 
replied  Mrs.  Wycliff. 

"Yes,  I  was  the  first  farmer  in  all 
that  region  to  use  dynamite,  both  on  my 
farm  and  on  the  highways.  Oh,  I  was  a 
king  then;  king  of  my  own  farm,  any 
way.  And  now  I  am  a  slave  to  these 
sleek  villains,  the  Baldwins.  The  tears 

108 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

come  to  my  eyes  whenever  I  think  of 
those  old  times;  and  of  those  sleek  cat 
tle  that  had  been  petted  so  much  by  my 
wife  and  the  girls  that  it  seemed  like 
sacrilege  to  sell  them;  they  seemed  to 
belong  to  the  family. ' '  And  Uncle  Jerry 
burst  into  tears  at  his  own  recital  of 
former  glories. 

'  *  To  think  that  I  should  have  come  to 
this,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Jerry.  ''To  be 
a  slave, — a  poor,  despised,  down-trodden 
slave  for  the  Baldwins, — and  I  used  to 
be  a  king  of  two  hundred  acres  in  Spruce- 
mont. 

"And  those  colts,  the  beautiful  crea 
tures.  When  I  went  into  the  pasture 
they  would  come  up  to  me  and  lay  their 
noses  on  my  cheeks,  and  almost  talk  to 
me.  How  many  colts  I  have  raised  to 
be  fine  horses,  and  sold  for  good  prices, 
and  my  wife  and  daughters  could  always 
ride  anywhere  they  chose,  and  to-day— 
and  Uncle  Jerry  could  not  proceed  for 
some  minutes  for  sobbing. 

4 'To-day,"  he  continued,  at  length, 
' '  My  poor  dear  girl  is  pining  away  for 

109 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

the  fresh  air.  I  heard  yesterday  that 
Zack  Baldwin  had  an  old  horse  that  he 
was  going  to  kill.  I  might  have  known 
that  I  would  be  refused,  but  I  was  think 
ing  only  of  my  poor  dear  girl,  and  I 
went  and  begged  him  to  let  me  have  the 
old  horse.  I  promised  him  it  should 
never  do  anything  but  draw  the  poor 
girl  the  little  way  she  is  able  to  ride." 

"Didn't  he  let  you  have  it?"  asked 
Mrs.  Wycliff,  full  of  sympathy. 

"Of  course  not.  It  wouldn't  make 
any  big  sound,  you  know,  like  giving  a 
half  a  million  dollars  to  a  library.  It 
might,  possibly,  have  saved  my  daugh 
ter's  life.  He  ordered  the  horse  taken 
out  and  shot  before  my  eyes.  I  felt  as 
if  those  shots  sounded  my  daughter's 
doom.  I  might  have  known  that  a  man 
who  would  discharge  me  for  getting  the 
policemen's  pay  raised,  would  refuse  me 
an  old  horse  which  might  save  my  daugh 
ter's  life." 

"Did  he  discharge  you  for  that?" 

' '  Surely.  He  came  to  me  after  town- 
meeting,  and  said: — 'A  man  who  works 

110 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

against  my  interests  in  town-meeting 
will  never  get  another  day's  work  from 
me.  I  have  no  use  for  such  men  as  you 
and  Wycliff.  He  got  offended  at  me 
once  before.  It  was  a  year  ago.  Fifty 
of  us  were  making  a  lawn  for  him.  He 
paid  us  only  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day, 
although  everybody  else  about  here  was 
paying  a  dollar  and  three-quarters  for 
that  kind  of  work.  I  circulated  a  peti 
tion,  which  most  of  the  workmen  signed, 
asking  for  one  dollar  and  seventy-five 
cents  per  day,  and  presented  the  petition 
to  Zack  Baldwin.  He  finally  agreed  to 
split  the  difference  with  us,  and  pay  us  a 
dollar  and  sixty-two  and  a  half  cents  a 
day,  but  he  was  revenged  on  us.  Those 
who  refused  to  sign  the  petition  were 
given  work  much  longer  than  the  rest. 
That  is  the  Baldwin  brand  of  Christianity, 
—paying  lower  wages  than  other  employ 
ers  pay,  and  discharging  those  who  ask 
for  fair  wages;  and  at  the  same  time 
making  princely  gifts  to  public  libraries 
and  other  institutions.  It  was  because 
outside  work  was  dull,  just  then,  that 

111 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Zack  Baldwin  took  advantage  of  us,  to 
get  our  work  at  less  than  market'  price. " 

"But  I  thought,"  said  Mrs.  Wy cliff, 
"that  Zechariah  and  David  Baldwin 
were  in  company." 

"They  are, — in  the  mills.  Congress 
man  Baldwin  isn't  a  bit  better  than  Old 
Zack,  the  old  Shylock.  The  man  who 
shuts  his  eyes  to  tyranny  isn't  a  bit  bet 
ter  than  the  tyrant.  Since  town-meet 
ing  I've  had  to  walk  three  miles  up  to 
the  Wendell  Farm,  for  work.  These 
little  hands  were  not  made  for  handling 
heavy  stone."  And  he  exhibited  a  pair 
of  hands  almost  as  small  and  fine  as  a 
lady's. 

"You  look  like  a  light  and  feeble  man 
to  walk  six  miles  and  handle  stone  all 
day,  and  you  must  be  getting  a  little  too 
old  for  hard  work.  How  old  are  you, 
Uncle  Jerry?" 

"  I  can't  tell.  I've  even  written  back 
to  the  old  country, — I  was  born  in  Ire 
land, —and  tried  to  find  out,  but  I  think 
the  records  must  have  been  destroyed. 
I  could  not  get  any  information  about  it. 

112 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

I  can  remember  once  shaking  hands  with 
Abraham  Lincoln,  in  the  city  of  Hart 
ford.  That  is  a  landmark  in  my  life.  I 
was  grown  up  then  and  able  to  do  a 
man's  work." 

John  Wycliff  arose,  took  down  a  vol 
ume  from  his  bookcase,  and  examined  it 
a  moment. 

''Lincoln  was  in  Hartford  on  the  fifth 
day  of  March,  1860,  and,  I  think,  never 
at  any  other  time.  Very  likely  you  are 
about  sixty-five  years  old  now. ' ' 

''What  is  the  matter  with  your  daugh 
ter?"  asked  Mrs.  Wycliff. 

"I  cannot  tell  you,  because  the  doc 
tors  cannot  tell  me.  It  seems  to  be  a 
sort  of  melancholy. ' ' 

"What  caused  it?" 

"Well,  there's  a  point  I  don't  like  to 
speak  of." 

"Don't  mention  it,  then.  Please  for 
give  me  for  asking." 

"After  all,  it  doesn't  matter,  seeing 
there  are  no  strangers  here;"  and  Uncle 
Jerry  lowered  his  voice  and  looked  in 
quiringly  toward  the  doors. 

113 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

There  is  no  one  except  ourselves 
within  hearing, "  said  Mrs.  Wy cliff,  re 
assuringly. 

"It  was  years  ago,  but  after  you  left 
the  hills,"  continued  Uncle  Jerry,  in  a 
low  voice.  " Pet,—  that's  what  we  call 
ed  her, — was  gay  as  a  bird  till  then.  Pet 
got  acquainted  with  a  fine  young  man  up 
in  the  country, —a  fine  fellow  he  was 
every  way.  I'd  say  that  if  'twas  the 
last  thing  I  was  to  say  in  this  world. 
Never  a  likelier  fellow  ever  grew  up  on 
the  hills,  if  I  do  say  it.  Well,  he  took  a 
liking  to  our  Pet,  and  I  guess  there  was 
as  much  love  on  Pet's  part  as  on  his." 

Uncle  Jerry  paused.  After  a  little  Mrs. 
Wycliff  ventured  to  ask  : 

"  Why  didn't  they  marry?" 

"  Well,  you  see,—  "  and  Uncle  Jerry's 
voice  dropped  lower  still.  ' '  I  said  he  was 
as  fine  a  fellow  as  ever  grew  up  on  the 
hills,  and  I  wouldn't  take  it  back  if  it 
was  to  be  the  last  thing  I  ever  said,  but 
—he  was  a  Protestant."  Uncle  Jerry 
was  silent  a  few  moments. 

"  Looking  back  now,  it  seems  to  me 

114 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

that  we  were  both,  Pet's  mother  and  I, 
willing  to  ruin  Pet  for  life  rather  than 
have  her  marry  a  Protestant.  While  I 
cannot  say  positively  that  this  is  the  rea 
son  for  Pet's  long  sickness,  yet  of  one 
thing  I  am  certain — she  has  not  been 
like  her  former  self  since  that  time." 
"  But  what  became  of  him?" 
"He  went  away,  to  the  West  it  was 
believed.  No  one  on  the  hills,  so  far  as 
I  know,  has  heard  from  him  since.  But 
this  whole  subject  is  one  which  I  do  not 
like  to  think  about,  much  less  talk  about. 
I  have  learned  one  lesson,  and  a  pretty 
costly  one,— when  God  has  taught  two 
persons  to  love  one  another  no  one  should 
be  guilty  of  keeping  them  apart." 

"And  here  am  I,"  continued  Uncle 
Jerry  piteously ,  ' '  Sixty-five  years  old,  at 
least,  discharged  by  those  sleek  villains, 
the  Baldwins,  because  I  dared  to  cham 
pion  the  policemen,  and  obliged  to  walk 
six  miles  a  day  to  work,  and  then, — only 
think  of  it,— this  slender  body  and  these 
weak  hands  to  build  stone  wall  all  day. 
The  only  work  I  can  get  to  do  with  these 

115 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

little  hands  is  to  lift  and  tug  at  heavy 
stone  all  day.  Merciful  God !  What 
shall  I  do?  I  can't  stand  this  work  a 
great  while.  My  back  is  almost  broken. 
These  thin  arms  are  as  sore  as  boils. 
These  little  hands  are  covered  with 
blisters.  And  my  poor,  dear  girl  pining 
for  the  fresh  air.  That  horse  that  Zack 
Baldwin  ordered  shot  to-day,  might  have 
saved  my  daughter's  life.  What  does 
he  care?  He  will  kill  me,  in  time,  too, 
for  I  can't  walk  six  miles  and  build  stone 
wall  all  day,  and  follow  it  up  a  great 
while."  And  Uncle  Jerry  paced  the 
floor  in  agony,  his  face  drawn  and  white, 
and  wringing  his  small,  thin  hands. 

'  You  have  a  fine  house,  Uncle  Jerry," 
said  Mrs.  Wycliff. 

"Yes;  but  we  can't  eat  or  drink  it,  or 
if  we  could,  how  long  would  it  last?  If 
I  began  to  use  up  the  value  of  my  home 
how  long  would  it  be  before  I  should  be 
'on  the  town?'  " 

"But  I  mean  could  you  not  rent  fur 
nished  rooms?" 

''No;  Pet  is  so  nervous  I  can  hardly 

116 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

live  with  her  myself,  much  less  have 
strangers  in  the  same  house  with  her. 
We  try  to  economize,  but  economy  is 
difficult  to  practice  with  sickness.  There 
is  only  one  thing  I  can  do.  I  must  sell 
my  place,  and  buy  a  little  farm  back  in 
the  country  again.  I  was  born  under 
king-rule.  I  am  not  going  to  die  under 
it" 

* '  But  you  are  not  able  to  do  the  work 
on  a  farm,"  protested  Mrs.  Wycliff,  "or 
even  if  you  are  able  to  do  it  to-day  you 
will  not  be  able  to  do  it  long.  Your  wife 
and  daughters  used  to  help  you  a  great 
deal  on  the  farm.  They  are  not  able  to 
do  it  now.  I  think  I  know  of  a  better 
arrangement. ' ' 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Uncle  Jerry, 
much  as  a  drowning  man  might  grasp  at 
a  straw. 

"You  have  a  good  house,  which  would 
bring  you  in  a  large  rent.  Then  you 
could  get  a  job  at  superintending  a  small 
farm.  You  would  not  need  to  work, 
yourself,  any  more  than  you  felt  able 
to."' 

117 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

''Who  would  give  old  Jerry  Barnaby 
a  job  as  a  farm  boss,  especially  when  he 
could  not  get  a  recommend  from  the 
Baldwins?  Don't  try  to  fool  a  poor  old 
man.  It's  cruel,  and  besides  it  isn't  like 
you,  either,  John  Wy cliff."  And  Uncle 
Jerry  looked  reproachfully  at  the  younger 
man. 

"It's  no  fooling,  Uncle  Jerry,"  said 
Wycliff  rising,  and  placing  his  hands  on 
Barnaby 's  shoulders.  "Do  you  know 
the  Twin  Mountain  Farm?" 

"Every  rod  of  it." 

"Now,  if  you  are  not  too  steep  with 
your  price,  you  can  take  charge  of  that 
farm.  You  will  have  your  fuel,  vege 
tables,  meat,  maple  sugar — indeed,  most 
of  your  living  off  the  farm.  You  will 
not  need  a  very  big  cash  salary,  along 
with  your  rent,  to  take  care  of  you  and 
your  family  in  good  shape,  and  your  wife 
and  daughter  will  have  a  horse  to  drive 
whenever  they  wish." 

"Who  owns  the  place?"  asked  Bar 
naby. 

"A  one-eyed  crank  named  Wycliff." 

118 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"Do  you  own  that  place?  Well,  we 
shan't  have  any  trouble  about  the  price, 
if  you  think  I  can  fill  the  bill." 

' '  Yes,  yes,  Uncle  Jerry.  Come  around 
in  the  morning  and  we  will  make  a  bar 
gain  in  five  minutes.  Then  we  will  drive 
off  and  buy  stock  and  tools." 

''Very  well.  I  must  get  home  and 
tell  Pet  and  her  mother.  We  are  willing 
to  shake  the  dust  of  Papyrus  off  our  feet 
any  day." 


119 


CHAPTER  X. 

EVA  BALDWIN  was  the  most  inde 
pendent,  the  most  democratic,  and 
the  most  religious  member  of  the  Bald 
win  family.  I  use  the  word  religious  in 
its  most  practical  sense.  The  Baldwins 
were  all  religious;  they  were  all  church- 
members;  they  all  had  the  outside,  the 
husk,  the  wrapper,  of  religion.  With 
them,  a  costly  house  of  worship,  a  silver- 
tongued  preacher,  the  repetition  of  some 
high-sounding  passages  from  God's  Word 
and  the  payment  of  a  certain  amount  of 
money  for  church  expenses— these  things 
constituted  religion. 

The  Baldwins,  when  it  came  to  relig 
ion,  were  like  a  certain  boy,  who  went 
chestnutting.  He  had  never  seen  a 
chestnut,  and  he  eagerly  filled  his  bas 
ket  with  the  great  prickly  burs,  which 
the  frost  had  opened,  •  but  never  noticed 
the  nuts  themselves,  which  lay  hidden 
under  the  leaves. 

The  Baldwins  were  very  religious,— 
120 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

but  if  the  Christ  had  come  into  Papyrus, 
the  town  which  belonged  to  them,  they 
would  have  given  Him  twenty-four  hours 
notice  to  get  out.  He  was  a  disturber  in 
the  vales  of  Judea,  and  He  would  have 
been  too  radical  for  the  Lords  of  the 
Berkshire  Hills.  It  would  have  become 
the  painful  duty  of  the  round  and  sleek 
Deacon  Surface,  and  the  gaunt  and 
spectral  Sheriff  Burse,  on  notice  from 
the  Baldwins,  to  order  Him  out. 

But  E v a— black-eyed  Eva— differed 
from  her  kindred.  She  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  husk  of  Christianity.  She  was 
a  constant  thorn  in  the  side  of  her 
brother,  Zechariah,  and  in  a  less  degree 
of  her  brother,  David,  the  Congressman. 
Even  between  these  two  there  was  a 
great  gulf.  The  Congressman  believed 
in  equal  rights,  except  at  home,  and  for 
his  own  workmen.  None  of  the  devices, 
some  of  them  of  almost  Satanic  inge 
nuity,  by  which  the  mill-hands  of  Papy 
rus  were  prevented  from  enjoying  their 
just  share  in  town-government,  none  of 
these  devices,  I  say,  could  have  suc- 

121 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

ceeded,  without  Congressman  Baldwin's 
approval,  through  his  confidential  agent, 
the  hundred-faced,  oily-tongued  Deacon 
Surface.  None  of  these  devices  for 
stealing  the  workman's  vote  won  Eva 
Baldwin's  approval. 

In  looking — and  she  had  not  far  to 
look — for  worthy  objects  upon  which  to 
bestow  her  help,  in  a  practical  and  sensi 
ble  way,  Eva  Baldwin  had  long  since 
found  in  Sprucemont,  that  little  ''de 
serted  town"  on  the  mountain-tops,  an 
outlet  for  some  of  her  benevolent  impul 
ses  and  surplus  funds.  A  few  genera 
tions  ago  Sprucemont  had  been  one  of 
the  most  prosperous  towns  on  the  hills, 
but  influences  which  it  would  take  too 
long  to  describe  here  had  brought  her  very 
low,  both  in  population  and  wealth. 
The  church  in  Sprucemont  had  long  since 
ceased  to  be  self-supporting,  and  was 
dependent  upon  the  generosity  of  Eva 
Baldwin  and  others  of  her  kind. 

To  awaken  the  interest  of  natives  of 
the  town  who  had  removed,  to  stir  the 
pride  of  those  remaining,  and  to  attract 

122 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

buyers  for  the  abandoned  farms,  a  cele 
bration  was  planned  in  honor  of  the 
town's  settlement.  For  such  an  occasion 
it  was  only  natural  that  the  most  distin 
guished  native  of  the  town,  Reverened 
Ralph  Cutter,  filling  a  pulpit  in  Spring- 
dale,  should  be  selected  as  the  principal 
speaker. 

The  day  came.  Up  the  long  hills  tow 
ard  Sprucemont  Center  climbed  teams 
and  vehicles  of  various  descriptions.  The 
newest  automobile,  the  stylish  and  luxu 
rious  up-to-date  carriage  with  liveried 
driver  and  sleek,  well-groomed  pair,  and 
the  pleasure-seeker's  four-horse  tally-ho, 
these  shared  the  mountain  road  with  an 
cient  specimens  of  the  carriage-makers' 
art,  broken  and  repaired  with  conspicu 
ous  lack  of  skill,  and  drawn  by  animals 
to  whom  the  currycomb  and  oat-bin 
seemed  alike  strangers.  Between  these 
extremes  were  the  comfortable  and  tidy 
conveyances  of  the  middle  classes. 

It  was  a  perfect  June  day.  The  rock 
maples,  the  red  beeches  and  the  various 
birches  were  in  their  full  summer  luxu- 

123 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

riance,  and  their  light  green  foliage  con 
trasted  prettily  with  the  darker,  more 
somber  shades  of  the  spruce,  the  hem 
lock,  and  the  balsam  fir.  The  verdure 
of  mowlands  and  pastures  was  sprinkled 
with  the  commonplace  buttercups  and 
daisies,  while  the  roadside  thickets  were 
eloquent  to  the  eye  with  the  pink  and 
white  blossoms  of  the  mountain  laurel. 

The  forests  echoed  with  the  silver  bell 
of  the  wood  thrush,  while  the  rollicking, 
bubbling  melody  of  the  bobolink,  and  the 
clear,  sweet  whistle  of  the  meadow  lark 
filled  every  wayside  field. 

The  ancient  meeting-house,  where  the 
services  were  held,  was  a  fine  specimen 
of  old  style,  country  church  architecture. 
It  had  been  built,  nearly  a  century  be 
fore,  to  accommodate  eight  hundred  peo 
ple,  but  the  population  of  the  town, 
had  dwindled  to  half  that  number. 

' '  The  strength  of  the  hills  is  His  also. ' ' 

It  was  with  these  words  of  the  Psalm 
ist  that  Reverned  Ralph  Cutter  began 
his  review  of  the  town's  history.  No 
one  seemed  to  realize  that  he  spoke  an 

124 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

hour.  A  library  has  been  written  about 
the  best  way  to  hold  the  attention  of  an 
audience.  It  might  all  be  boiled  down 
to  this: — "  Have  something  to  say  worth 
saying,  and  then  say  it  in  a  way  worth 
hearing.  Ralph  Cutter  knew  his  subject 
thoroughly.  He  could  only  give  an  out 
line  of  it  in  the  time  allotted  to  him;  but, 
as  little  ten-year-old  Jimmy  Stetson  said, 
'  *  When  Mr.  Cutter  tells  an  Indian  story 
you  feel  as  though  the  Red  Skins  were 
skulking  around  the  church,  and  when 
he  talks  about  bears  you  almost  expect 
to  hear  'em  growl." 

"Aunt  Lyddy"  Buxton,  who  came 
early  and  had  a  seat  near  the  pulpit, 
said: — "That's  the  first  time  I  have 
heard  a  minister  in  a  year,  although  I 
go  to  church  every  Sunday.  Thank 
God  there's  now  and  then  a  minister 
who  thinks  it  a  part  of  his  duty  to  make 
people  hear. ' ' 

"  That's  the  minister  I  always  like  to 
hear,"  said  Farmer  Gray.  "I  don't 
have  to  go  to  a  dictionary  to  find  out 
what  he  means,  and  it's  all  good,  sober, 

125 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

solid  sense,  every  word  he  has  to  say. " 
The  speaker  did  not  occupy  a  minute 
more  than  the  time  allotted  to  him.  For 
a  minister,  or  any  other  speaker,  to  take 
time  which  belonged  to  others,  Ralph 
Cutter  considered  no  better  than  any 
other  kind  of  stealing,  and  he  never 
practiced  it.  He  always  kept  within  his 
allotted  time.  He  had  saved  a  few  min 
utes  in  which  to  consider  the  future  of 
the  town. 

"Every  valley  shall  be  exalted,  and 
every  mountain  and  every  hill  shall  be 
made  low." 

"I  understand  these  words  of  Isaiah," 
he  said,  '  'to  be  prophecy  full  of  blessing 
to  us  all.  These  hills  shall  be  brought 
low— that  is  to  say,  they  shall  be  more 
easily  reached.  Not  only  this,  but  the 
working  people  in  the  cities  shall  be  able 
to  reach  them.  The  time  is  coming, 
when  the  poorest  one  of  our  millions  of 
laborers  shall  be  able  to  enjoy  a  summer 
vacation,  with  his  family,  on  these  hills, 
or  at  the  sea-shore,  or  wherever  else  on 
God's  beautiful  earth  he  chooses  to  spend 

126 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

it.  The  multitudes,  now  scarcely  earn 
ing  their  daily  bread,  shall  not  always 
toil  to  maintain  the  few  in  idleness  and 
luxury.  The  good  things,  the  best  things 
of  God's  bountiful  earth  shall  be  within 
reach  of  the  toiling  masses,  not  occasion 
ally  and  sparingly,  but  at  all  times  and 
in  generous  measure.  The  workman 
shall  enjoy  the  full  fruit  of  his  labors. 
There  shall  be  no  idlers,  as  now,  to  fat 
ten  upon  the  laborers'  toil.  God  has  pro 
vided  an  abundance  for  all  His  children, 
and  the  avarice  of  the  few  shall  not  al 
ways  keep  his  gifts  away  from  the  many. 
'  *  Perhaps  you  will  call  this  socialism, 
but  it  is  Christianity  also.  I  believe,  in 
practice,  we  have  scarcely  learned  the 
a  b  c  of  Christianity.  I  am  not  attack 
ing  the  rights  of  property.  I  have  no 
pet  theories  to  advance.  The  present 
system,  which  allows  one  man  to  pile  up 
hundreds  of  millions  by  getting  control 
of  steel  or  oil,  while  the  working  multi 
tude  are  little  better  than  slaves — this 
system,  I  say,  cannot  endure.  It  must 
fall.  When  we  have  learned,  by  expe- 

127 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

rience,  what  true  Christianity  means,  it 
may  be  that  we  shall  get  back  very  near 
to  the  starting-point  of  Christianity, 
when  the  disciples  had  all  things  com 
mon. 

"Every  mountain  and  hill  shall  be 
brought  low — brought  within  reach  of 
the  toiling  hosts  of  the  valley.  All  these 
abandoned  acres  shall  be  tilled  again. 
This  temple  shall  again  be  filled  with 
glad  worshippers,  as  of  old.  The  elec 
tric  railway,  which  is  leveling  the  hills 
everywhere,  shall  bring  to  these  beauti 
ful  heights  the  tired  and  dusty  dwellers 
in  the  city,  for  summer  rest.  This  level 
ing  process  shall  benefit  the  dwellers  and 
toilers  in  the  vales.  Already  the  farm 
house  feels  the  throbbing  life  of  the 
city,  through  the  telephone  and  the 
daily  mail.  This  is  only  the  beginning. 
No  one  knows  what  the  end  may  be." 

It  was  an  eloquent  address;  eloquent 
in  its  pictures  of  history;  eloquent  in  its 
present  comfort;  eloquent  in  its  promise 
for  the  future,  and  it  had  a  fitting  and 
appreciative  word  for  those  outside  the 

128 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

town  who  had  kept  the  fires  of  religion 
burning  on  this  ancient  altar.  It  had 
none  of  the  marks  of  much  of  our  pres 
ent  oratory— no  foreign  phrases;  no 
words  difficult  to  understand;  no  care 
fully  poised  periods;  no  words  dropped 
nearly  to  a  whisper.  The  prize  pupil  in 
elocution  sometimes  cannot  be  heard  in 
the  rear  of  the  hall,  while  the  speaker 
who  makes  himself  clearly  heard  in  all 
parts  of  the  house  goes  home  without 
even  honorable  mention.  While  mere 
noise  is  not  oratory,  yet  Daniel  Webster, 
Charles  Sumner  and  George  William 
Curtis  always  made  themselves  heard. 
The  speaker's  concluding  words  were:— 

' '  Let  us  be  true  to  the  God  of  our  fa 
thers,  and  the  God  of  our  fathers  shall 
bless  us." 

There  was  not  a  more  interested  lis 
tener  than  Eva  Baldwin.  All  the  old 
feeling  which  she  had  experienced  dur 
ing  the  speaker's  stay  in  Papyrus,  and 
which  she  had  tried  to  suppress  since, 
came  rushing  back.  She  thought: 
* '  Why  could  not  God  have  given  to  me 

129 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

to  be  the  help-meet  of  such  a  man,  even 
if  He  gave  my  millions  to  some  one 
else?" 

As  for  Ralph  Cutter,  he  had  been  un 
just  to  Miss  Baldwin  in  allowing  her 
wealth  to  place  a  barrier  between  them. 
The  sight  of  her  to-day  fanned  into 
flame  again  the  old  fires  of  his  admira 
tion,  and  he  more  than  half  resolved  to 
seek  an  opportunity  of  renewing  her 
acquaintance. 

After  the  exercises,  which  closed  early, 
several  small  parties  visited  Twin  Moun 
tain,  which  was  near  by.  One  of  the 
parties  included  Reverend  Ralph  Cutter 
and  another  included  the  Baldwins. 
For  a  moment,  and  only  for  a  moment, 
the  parties  met.  The  minister  and  the 
heiress  saluted  each  other  cordially  and 
lingered  after  their  parties  had  sepa 
rated.  She  expressed  regret  that  he  had 
left  Papyrus.  He  expressed  regret  that 
it  had  seemed  best  for  him  to  leave,  and 
then,  something  in  her  eyes  seeming  to 
warrant  it,  he  added: 

"I  had  hoped  to  become  better  ac- 

130 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

quainted  with  you,    had  I  remained." 

1 '  Did  I  place  any  obstacles  in  the  way 
of  our  further  acquaintance?  I  certainly 
did  not  intend  to  do  so,"  she  replied, 
and  there  was  no  mistaking  the  frank, 
honest  meaning  in  the  black  eyes. 

' '  No,  you  did  not.  May  I  correspond 
with  you?" 

' '  Certainly. ' '  She  was  laughing  now ; 
a  laugh  of  relief  and  pleasure.  "  But  do 
not  forget,  when  circumstances  permit, 
that  a  face  to  face  meeting  is  a  long  way 
ahead  of  a  letter." 

But  the  parties  to  which  they  belonged 
were  getting  farther  and  farther  apart. 

' '  You  might  return  home  with  us, ' '  she 
suggested.  "You  could  take  an  even 
ing  train  for  Springdale. ' '  And  he  very 
gladly  assented. 


131 


CHAPTER  XL 

IT  would  be  unjust  in  this  narrative  to 
class  David  Baldwin,  the  Congress 
man,  with  his  brother,  Zechariah.  David 
meant  to  be  just.  Whatever  of  justice 
there  was  in  the  relations  of  the  Bald 
wins  to  their  workmen  was  usually  cred 
ited  by  the  workmen  to  Congressman 
Baldwin,  and  probably  they  were  right. 
Such  reforms  as  had  been  granted  in  the 
mills  had  usually  been  secured  by  appeal 
ing  from  Zechariah,  the  resident  mana 
ger,  to  David,  whose  public  duties  'kept 
him  much  of  the  time  in  Washington. 
David  Baldwin  was  generous.  If  there 
was  anything  of  the  "milk  of  human 
kindness  ' '  in  the  treatment  of  the  Bald 
win  workmen  it  was  due  largely  to 
David. 

Zechariah  Baldwin  was  generous  when 
he  thought  his  generosity  would  make 
a  big  display,  and  be  heralded  in  the 
public  press.  In  the  church  and  in  the 
press,  especially  the  religious  press,  the 

132 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

name  of  Zechariah  Baldwin  was  ac 
claimed  loudly  as  a  philanthropist.  In 
private  circles,  particularly  among  his 
own  workmen,  in  those  small  circles 
where  the  laborer  dared  to  speak  his 
honest  feelings,  he  was  oftener  spoken 
of  as  a  "skinflint,"  or  simply  a  "skin," 
a  term  in  common  use  which  is  full  of 
meaning,  and  that  not  of  the  best  kind. 
Zechariah  Baldwin  was  the  last  to  raise 
the  wages  of  his  help  and  the  first  to  cut 
them  down. 

David  Baldwin  was  rarely  known, 
where  the  decision  lay  with  himself 
alone,  to  refuse  any  reasonable  request 
of  a  workingman.  While  his  public 
gifts  were  not  as  large,  nor  trumpeted 
as  loudly  as  his  brother's,  still,  the  un 
fortunate  employee  or  neighbor  who 
needed  help,  knew  where  to  get  it.  But 
David  was  absent  much  of  the  time, 
either  in  Washington,  performing  his 
official  duties  as  Congressman,  or  attend 
ing  to  large  financial  interests  outside  of 
Papyrus.  Hence  it  happened  that  Zech 
ariah  Baldwin  was  usually  the  boss  of 

133 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Papyrus  and  political  independence  was 
not  tolerated  among  the  workmen.  Few 
workingmen  had  ever  remained  long  in 
Papyrus  after  showing  in  any  way  their 
independence  of  the  Baldwins. 

Zechariah  Baldwin  defended  the  posi 
tion  of  the  paper  manufacturers  in  this 
way: 

"We  have  built  up  the  town;  we  own 
it  and  we  claim  the  moral  right  to  drive 
out  of  it  any  man  who  is  offensive  to  us. 
That  one-eyed  Wycliff  is  a  mischief- 
maker  and  trouble-breeder  and  he  has 
got  to  get  out. 

But  Wycliff  did  not  get  out.  He  did 
not  even  promise  to  get  out.  He  seemed 
to  have  no  intention  of  getting  out.  The 
methods  which  usually  succeeded  in  driv 
ing  a  workingman  out  of  town — black 
listing  him  in  all  the  Baldwin  industries 
and  warning  other  employers  not  to  hire 
him— these  methods  had  failed  utterly  in 
the  case  of  John  Wycliff. 

"We  cannot  tolerate  him  much 
longer,"  said  Zack  Baldwin.  Cer 
tainly  not.  Where  one  workingman 

134 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

dares  to  do  his  own  thinking  and  to  ex 
press  his  own  opinions  there  is  danger 
that  others  will  catch  the  distemper. 
What  if  they  should  form  a  union  and 
demand  the  same  wages  paid  elsewhere 
for  the  same  work?  Such  a  thing  was 
not  to  be  thought  of  for  an  instant. 

"We  must  fight  the  devil  with  fire," 
said  Zack  Baldwin.  Accordingly  he 
offered  a  few  Papyrus  roughs  a  large 
sum  if  they  would  drive  Wycliff  out  of 
town.  He  was  not  particular  as  to  the 
means  employed,  so  long  as  they  avoided 
publicity  and  arrest.  Zack  Baldwin's 
own  son,  Jehu,  might  be  classed  with 
other  Papyrus  roughs,  in  spite  of  a  thin 
veneer  of  polished  manners,  which  high 
society  and  the  schools  had  given  him. 
It  is  highly  probable  that  the  means  em 
ployed  to  rid  the  town  of  Wycliff  might 
have  been  violent  but  for  an  unexpected 
incident. 

Zechariah  Baldwin  met  an  old  ac 
quaintance  from  the  West  at  the  Taconic 
House,  the  only  hotel  in  Papyrus,  and,  of 
course,  the  property  of  the  Baldwins. 

135 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"How  do  you  do,  Colonel  Lathrop?" 
exclaimed  the  Lord  of  Papyrus,  effu 
sively. 

"That  you,  Baldwin?"  replied  the 
Westerner;  ' '  you  have  a  delightful  town 
here." 

"So  we  think;"  and  the  little  million 
aire  paper-maker  rubbed  his  hands  in 
self-congratulation;  "  but  we  have  a  few 
evil-minded  cranks  among  us  who  think 
they  could  improve  matters.  However, 
I  think  the  boys  will  drive  out  the  worst 
one  within  a  week." 

"Who  is  he?  Who  would  think  of 
finding  fault  with  such  a  paradise  as 
this?"  pursued  the  Colonel. 

' '  No  one  but  a  fool — a  crank  named 
Wycliff .  There  he  is  now,  cleaning  the 
street,  with  the  rest  of  Maxwell's  gang 
—a  job  just  suited  to  him,  except  that 
he  ought  not  to  have  any  employment  at 
all  in  a  decent  town." 

"Wycliff?  Wycliff?  John  Wycliff ?— 
One-eyed  Wycliff?" 

'Yes,  that's  the  man.  Do  you  know 
him?"  asked  the  little  man  in  surprise. 

136 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

' '  I  rather  think  I  do, "  replied  Colonel 
Lathrop,  pulling  out  his  wallet,  ''and 
here's  a  hundred  dollars  that  says  you 
don't  drive  John  Wycliff  out  of  Papyrus, 
and  that  if  you  try  it  you'll  have  the 
biggest  job  for  the  Coroner  you  ever  had 
in  Berkshire.  What!  Won't  put  up  the 
money?"  and  the  big  ranchman  looked 
down  on  the  little  millionaire  with  con 
tempt. 

"There's  no  blood  in  your  neck,  is 
there!" 

The  dapper  little  churchman  was 
shocked  that  anyone  should  expect  him 
to  do  such  a  vulgar,  unchristian  thing  as 
to  bet,  but  he  controlled  himself  long 
enough  to  ask:— 

"  What  do  you  know  of  Wycliff?" 

"Oh,  not  much,"  sneered  the  big 
fellow,  "except  that  he  is  the  most  stub 
born  cuss,  and  can  shoot  the  straightest 
and  quickest  of  any  man  I  ever  knew." 
Then,  as  the  little  man  waited,  he  con 
tinued:— 

"He  was  a  cow-boy  on  my  ranch.  One 
day  the  Indians  tried  to  stampede  his 

137 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

herd.  There  were  seven  red  devils,  and 
he  all  alone  against  them.  We  found 
four  'good  Indians, '  Indians  that  would 
never  steal  any  more  cattle,  one  just  dy 
ing,  and  two  had  returned  to  the  reser 
vation  to  report  that  Wycliff  was  'bad 
medicine.'  We  found  Wycliff,  nearly 
dead,  with  one  eye  shot  out,  behind  a 
breastwork  of  dead  cattle." 

The  big  ranchman  did  not  attempt  to 
disguise  his  contempt  for  the  little  man, 
and  without  a  word  of  farewell,  he  strode 
down  into  the  dirt  of  the  street,  to  greet 
his  former  employee.  Meanwhile  one  of 
the  loungers  at  the  hotel  had  overheard 
the  Colonel's  story.  Before  night  it  was 
repeated,  with  numerous  additions,  all 
through  Papyrus,  and  all  the  Baldwins' 
money  would  not  have  hired  the  biggest 
bully  in  the  town  to  approach  John  Wyc 
liff  with  evil  intent. 

The  ranchman  stepped  up  to  Hugh 
Maxwell,  who  was  overseeing  the  work, 
saying:— 

' '  I  want  to  borrow  one  of  your  men— 
Wycliff— for  awhile,  if  I  may  do  so." 

138 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"All  right,"  was  the  reply.  "Only 
return  him  in  good  condition." 

Then  the  two  walked  off  down  the 
street,  and  the  Colonel  told  Wycliff  of 
his  conversation  with  Zechariah  Bald 
win. 

"I'm  not  afraid  of  anything  in  that 
direction,"  replied  Wycliff.  "  I  am 
blessed  with  lots  of  good  friends  in  Pa 
pyrus,  and  one  of  Zack  Baldwin's  own 
gang  gave  away  the  whole  plot  to  me. 
I  have  friends  in  Zack  Baldwin's  own 
house.  I  have  taken  all  the  precautions 
I  care  to.  I  have  sent  away  my  wife 
and  child,  for  the  present,  up  into  the 
country.  Such  of  our  household  goods 
as  are  valuable  merely  for  their  associa 
tions — our  pictures,  my  mounted  cougar, 
everything  which  money  could  not  re 
place—all  these  things  I  have  taken  to  a 
neighbor's.  As  for  me,  I  don't  know  as 
I  should  live  a  week  if  some  one  did  not 
threaten  to  injure  me."  And  Wycliff 
laughed. 

"  I  came  to  town,"  said  Colonel  Lath- 
rop,  "to  see  about  your  share  in  the 

139 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Rattlesnake.  I  hope  you  haven't  sold 
it" 

' '  No.  When  I  lost  my  property  I  tried 
to  sell  it,  but  could  not  get  an  offer.  I 
have  felt  that  sometime  it  might  become 
of  value,  perhaps  through  cheaper  meth 
ods  of  mining." 

"  You  know  Walker  Nichols,  the  min 
ing  expert?" 

' '  By  reputation.     Yes. ' ' 

"He  thinks  that  by  the  practice  of 
new  economies  in  mining,  which  will 
lessen  our  expenses  considerably,  we 
may  be  able  to  operate  the  Rattlesnake 
Mine  at  a  small  profit.  Then  there  is 
always  the  possibility  of  striking  a  richer 
vein.  Shall  I  go  ahead?  You  will  not 
need  to  advance  anything." 

"Certainly." 

"You  remember  Mr.  Baxter?" 

"Yes;  'Old  Sunshine,'  the  boys  used 
to  call  him." 

"He  has  great  faith  that  we  shall 
strike  something  better  if  we  open  up 
the  Rattlesnake  again.  His  opinion- 
ought  to  be  worth  something.  He  was 

140 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

a  'forty-niner, '  has  worked  in  the  mines 
ever  since,  and  has  made  and  lost  for 
tunes  in  them." 

Colonel  Lathrop  withdrew,  and  John 
Wycliff  returned  to  his  work. 

Zechariah  Baldwin,  although  tempora 
rily  thwarted  in  his  plans  to  rid  the  town 
of  Wycliff,  was  by  no  means  inclined  to 
give  up  his  efforts.  He  had  an  abund 
ance  of  resources  and  expedients,  and 
when  one  failed  he  was  not  usually  long 
in  finding  another. 

Wycliff 's  family  had  been  sent  up  to 
Sprucemont,  where  they  were  the  guests 
of  their  old  friends,  the  Porters.  One 
night,  soon  after  their  departure,  Wyc 
liff,  who  had  retired,  was  awakened  by 
a  lusty  rap  at  the  door. 

"Who's  there?"  he  shouted,  throwing 
up  his  chamber  window. 

"Not  too  loud,  John,"  came  the  an 
swer  from  a  suppressed  voice. 

"That  you,  Dan?  Wait  a  minute  till 
I  let  you  in. ' ' 

"  No;  I  can't  stop.  There's  a  big  game 
on  foot.  Jehu  Baldwin  will  fire  a  revolver 

141 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

through  his  Uncle  David's  bedroom  win 
dow.  Then  he  will  run  in  the  middle  of 
the  street  to  your  house,  where  he  will 
take  to  the  grass  and  throw  the  weapon 
upon  your  lawn." 

"To-night?" 

"Yes;  just  after  midnight.  But  I 
must  get  back." 

Congressman  Baldwin  was  the  idol  of 
the  masses,  and  if  it  could  be  made  to  ap 
pear  that  Wycliff  had  assaulted  him  there 
would  be  a  riot,  and  the  victim  of  its 
fury  would  be  fortunate  if  he  escaped 
alive.  Frontier  methods  would  not  avail 
at  this  crisis.  Wycliff  was  somewhat  re 
sourceful  himself.  He  got  his  camera 
and  prepared  for  a  flashlight  photograph. 
He  had  been  writing  a  magazine  article 
on  the  whippoorwill—  (one  of  these  birds 
sang  in  the  lilacs  every  night)  —and  he 
had  the  materials  ready  for  a  flashlight 
of  the  bird,  to  illustrate  his  article.  He 
would  now  use  them  to  photograph  a  dif 
ferent  object.  He  set  his  camera  so  that 
it  would  sweep  the  highway,  and  waited 
under  cover  of  the  midnight  darkness. 

142 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

The  town  clock  struck  for  twelve. 
A  thunder-shower  was  coming  up.  There 
was  an  occasional  flash  and  roar  from 
the  cloud.  The  whippoorwill  sang  in 
the  lilacs.  There  were  pistol-shots  down 
the  road,  and  then  the  sound  of  running 
footsteps.  They  drew  nearer  until  they 
were  directly  in  front  of  Wycliff.  The 
flashlight  did  its  work.  Wycliff  boarded 
a  trolley-car  for  Elmfield,  carrying  the 
precious  camera,  and  leaving  this  notice 
on  his  front  door:— 

Gone  to  visit  my  old  friend, 
Sheriff  Coggsivell,    at  the  Jail. 

JOHN    WYCLIFF." 


143 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ON  that  same  evening  mentioned  in 
our  last  chapter  there  was  a  social 
gathering  at  Farmer  Porter's,  in  Spruce- 
mont.  It  was  a  festival  known  among 
the  Green  Mountain  farmers  as  a  '  'sugar- 
eat/'  but  it  was  held  very  much  out  of 
season.  Maple  sugar  is  usually  made 
during  the  months  of  February  or  March. 
The  sap  drawn  from  the  rock-maple,  or 
sugar-maple  trees  is  boiled  until  it  reaches 
a  consistency  which  is  called  wax.  Tin 
pans  are  pressed  full  of  snow,  and  the 
maple  wax,  dipped  boiling  from  the  ket 
tles,  is  poured  upon  the  snow.  The  wax 
hardens  upon  the  snow,  and  is  then  es 
teemed  the  greatest  delicacy  of  country 
epicures. 

For  many  years  Farmer  Porter  had 
treated  his  neighbors  to  an  annual  sugar- 
eat;  not  in  winter  or  spring,  but  in  mid 
summer,  the  snow  being  obtained  from 
the  cave  on  Twin  Mountain,  known  as 
the  "Bear's  Den."  On  this  occasion, 

144 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

besides  his  country  neighbors,  there  were 
present  some  friends  from  Papyrus,  Ford 
Hulbert  and  Lena  Boardman,  and  John 
Wycliff's  wife  and  child.  Uncle  Jerry 
Barnaby  was  a  neighbor,  and  was  pres 
ent  with  his  wife  and  daughter. 

The  farmers,  and  their  wives,  daugh 
ters,  mothers  and  sweethearts  for  miles 
around,  thronged  the  hospitable  home  of 
Daniel  Porter.  In  the  old-fashioned  fire 
place  in  the  kitchen,  on  a  stout  iron  crane, 
hung  the  ancient  copper  kettle  filled  with 
maple  syrup.  A  crackling  wood  fire 
kept  the  syrup  leaping  and  dancing,  un 
til  it  was  boiled  down  thick  enough  to 
* '  stand, ' '  or  harden,  upon  the  snow.  A 
number  of  experts  decided  this  point, 
and  when,  according  to  their  verdict,  it 
was  just  brittle  enough,  the  boys  brought 
in  the  pans  of  snow  which  they  had  se 
cured  from  the  cave. 

The  guests  were  seated  at  long  tables, 
each  group  of  two  or  three  having  a  pan 
of  snow,  on  which  the  maple  wax  had 
been  poured  in  fanciful  figures,  which 
were  gathered  off  the  snow  and  eaten 

145 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

with  forks.  There  was  a  moment's  hush, 
as  the  preacher  arose  and  invoked  the 
Lord's  blessing  upon  the  occasion.  Then 
began  a  season  of  social  intercourse  and 
merry-making. 

An  outburst  of  laughter  from  all  occa 
sionally  testified  to  a  fresh  triumph  of 
Uncle  Jerry's  wit  and  called  attention 
anew  to  the  pale  young  woman  beside 
him.  There  was  circulated  among  a  few 
near  friends  a  photograph  of  a  young 
man,  a  Westerner  apparently,  and  it  was 
whispered  about  that  he  was  a  prosper 
ous  ranchman  and  lumberman,  and  that 
he  would  soon  return  to  revisit  the  home 
of  his  youth.  The  picture,  and  the  neigh 
borly  remarks  called  forth  by  it,  brought 
a  momentary  color  to  the  pale  face  by 
Uncle  Jerry's  side. 

Old  neighbors  and  friends  were  no  less 
interested  in  Miss  Boardman,  whose  girl 
hood  had  been  spent  among  them,  and 
who  was  here  to-night,  accompanied  by 
Ford  Hulbert,  the  Papyrus  real  estate 
agent.  If  Lena  Boardman  were  at  all 
observant,  she  must  have  noticed  the  re- 

146 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

spect  shown  her  companion  by  all  pres 
ent,  and  the  slightest  inquiry  would  have 
revealed  the  fact  that  he  was  universally 
respected  in  the  little  farming  commu 
nity. 

It  was  a  weird  occasion,  for  the  snows 
of  winter  and  the  sweets  of  spring  con 
trasted  strangely  with  the  warmth  of  the 
midsummer  evening,  and  it  was  soon 
over.  The  last  sentiment  expressed  at 
the  tables,  as  the  party  broke  up,  was 
this  of  Uncle  Jerry:  "Our  Berkshire 
women,— God  bless  'em, — the  sweetest 
things  of  God's  creation." 

Lena  Boardman  and  Ford  Hulbert  had 
come  on  horseback,  a  favorite  method  of 
travel  with  them,  and  as  soon  as  the 
party  began  to  break  up  they  returned 
to  Papyrus  in  the  same  way  they  had 
come.  Down  the  long  slopes  the  riders 
cantered,  sometimes  through  deep  woods, 
sometimes  in  the  open.  It  was  quite 
dark,  but  where  the  riders  could  not  be 
sure  of  their  way  the  horses  could  be 
trusted  to  find  it. 

An  owl  shouted  his  greeting  from  the 

147 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

tall  spire  of  a  spruce  tree.  The  hurried 
whistle  of  a  whippoorwill  rang  out  from 
a  thicket  of  wild  cherry  bushes.  Up 
from  the  deep  aisles  of  a  hemlock  woods 
came  the  snarl  of  a  wildcat. 

The  roadside  bushes  had  a  spicy  breath. 
A  minty  fragrance  was  wafted  from  the 
brookside.  From  fields  freshly  cut  came 
the  scent  of  hay  newly  mown. 

Kulbert  reined  up  his  horse,  and 
stopped  his  companion's,  also. 

"Lena,"  he  said,  "havent  I  been  on 
probation  long  enough?  You  have  known 
for  a  long  time  that  I  love  you.  How 
long  are  you  going  to  hold  me  off  at 
arm's  length?" 

"A  burnt  child  dreads  the  fire,"  re 
plied  his  companion.  "I  said  yes  once, 
to  my  sorrow.  I  don't  want  to  be  hasty 
again." 

"I  don't  like  to  be  compared  to  Clif 
Borden,"  he  replied.  "If  you  made  a 
bad  choice  once,  I  don't  know  who  was 
to  blame  for  it  but  yourself.  You  knew 
the  man,  or  you  ought  to  have  known 
him;  you  knew,  or  you  ought  to  have 

148 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

known,  for  your  friends  told  you,  that 
Borden  had  no  respect  for  any  woman, 
and  no  respect  for  virtue.  You  went 
into  the  fire,  as  you  express  it,  with  full 
knowledge  of  the  risk  you  were  running. 
I  .have  served  a  good  long  apprentice 
ship  for  your  hand.  You  ought  to  know, 
also,  whether  I  am  an  honorable  man. 
It  is  a  long  time  since  I  first  asked  you 
to  be  my  wife.  Don't  be  in  a  hurry 
about  answering.  I  shall  never  ask  you 
again."  And  Hulbert's  horse  resumed 
its  canter  down  the  mountain  road, 

There  was  just  the  least  bit  of  the  co 
quette  about  Lena  Boardman.  She  had 
fully  decided  to  accept  Ford  Hulbert, 
but  she  wanted  to  play  him  for  awhile 
yet. 

A  thunder-shower  was  coming  up  rap 
idly  in  the  south,  and  the  blackness  there 
was  crossed  by  zig-zag  chains  of  light. 

The  hoof-beats  were  out  of  harmony 
with  the  music  of  the  mountain  brook. 
Lena  thought  of  the  little  spring  near 
Phillips  Porter's,  where  the  brook  start 
ed.  The  little  stream  seemed  uncertain, 

149 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

at  first,  which  way  to  go.  Soon  it  left 
the  level  meadow  of  its  parent  spring, 
and  came  to  the  steep  hillside.  It  rippled 
and  sparkled  and  tumbled  alongside  the 
mountain  road  for  miles.  Then  another 
brook  tumbled  into  it.  Then  the  larger 
stream  splashed  noisily  down  the  moun 
tain  till  it  joined  the  river.  The  river 
knew  where  to  go.  It  took  a  strong  dam 
to  stop  it  and  make  it  turn  the  mill- 
wheel. 

Lena  thought  of  the  time  when  she 
had  first  met  Hulbert.  She  remembered 
that  spring  of  admiration  for  the  big, 
handsome,  courteous  fellow,  whom  every 
body  respected,  and  who  ought  not  to  be 
dishonored  by  mention  at  the  same  time 
with  the  libertine  whom  she  had  married. 
She  knew  that  he  loved  her,  and  she 
knew  that  her  own  love  had  grown,  like 
the  mountain  brook,  till  it  was  too  strong 
to  be  turned  aside. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  ride  Lena 
was  considering  how  she  might  most 
easily  surrender.  They  reached  her 
own  door,  where  Ford  helped  her  to 

150 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

alight.  Just  then  a  number  of  pistol- 
shots  rang-  out  at  a  little  distance  down 
the  street,  but  he  paid  little  attention  to 
them,  for  her  arms  were  reached  out  to 
ward  him.  She  spoke  but  one  word,— 
"Ford," — but  it  was  enough. 

A  few  minutes  later,  when  Hulbert  re 
mounted  his  horse,  a  lightning-flash 
made  the  street  below  brighter  than 
noonday,  and  showed  to  Hulbert  and  his 
companion  Jehu  Baldwin  hurrying  past, 
pistol  in  hand.  Perhaps  they  would 
have  thought  more  of  this,  had  they  not 
noticed  by  another  flash,  illuminating  a 
verandah  across  the  street,  the  parting 
of  Eva  Baldwin  and  Ralph  Cutter. 

Riding  his  own  horse,  and  leading  the 
one  his  companion  had  ridden,  Hulbert 
hurried  away  to  escape  the  shower.  His 
home  was  a  large  farm,  quite  away  from 
the  village. 

Next  morning,  upon  taking  up  a  daily 
paper,  he  was  quite  surprised  at  the 
headlines  reproduced  on  the  following 
page  from  the  Elmfield  Star: — 


151 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 


SHOTS  FIRED  AT  DAVID  BALDWIN 


John  Wycliff  the  Man    Who   Committed 
the  Assault. 


WYCLIFF' S  DWELLING  DESTROYED 


By  a  Papyrus  Mob— He   Gives    Himself  Up  to 
Sheriff  Coggswell. 


He  did  not  stop  to  read  further,  but 
mounted  his  horse,  and  was  soon  at  Con 
gressman  Baldwin's  office. 

"I  guess  we  are  rid  of  John  Wycliff 
for  awhile,"  remarked  the  Congressman. 

"See  here,  Dave  Bald  win,  your  nephew, 
Jehu,  fired  those  shots,  and  I'll  give  you 
just  ten  minutes  in  which  to  call  your 
dogs  oft0  from  Wycliff.  If  you  don't  do 
it  in  that  time  I'll  telegraph  the  truth 
about  this  affair  to  a  New  York  paper 
which  you  cannot  command." 
152 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"How  do  you  know  that  Jehu  did  it?" 
asked  the  Congressman. 

* '  Because  I  saw  him  coming  from  this 
direction,  the  pistol  still  in  his  hand, 
shortly  after  I  heard  the  shots." 

* '  Why  have  you  waited  until  now  be 
fore  saying  a  word?" 

"I  did  not  suspect  anything  wrong 
until  I  saw  this  morning's  paper.  There 
is  at  least  one  crisis  in  a  man's  life  when 
he  is  too  full  of  satisfaction  himself  to 
suspect  anyone  of  wrong-doing." 

Just  then  the  telephone  bell  rang. 

"  Is  this  David  Baldwin?" 

"Yes.     Who  is  this?" 

1 '  This  is  Ralph  Cutter  at  Springdale. 
I  am  sorry  for  you  in  your  experience  of 
last  night.  If  you  will  excuse  an  old- 
fashioned  country  expression,  you  are 
barking  up  the  wrong  tree.  You  are  en 
tirely  wrong  in  your  charge  against 
Wycliff.  Your  nephew,  Jehu,  is  the  real 
culprit.  I  heard  the  shots,  and  was  just 
taking  leave  of  your  sister,  when  a  flash 
of  lightning  showed  Jehu  distincly,  in 
the  middle  of  the  street,  and  the  weapon 

153 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

still  in  his  hand.  Probably  it  was  very 
dull  of  me,  but  I  never  thought  anything 
was  wrong.  When  a  man  has  just  found 
the  geatest  blessing  of  his  life  he  may  be 
forgiven  for  being  dull  to  common 
things." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  Cupid  was  work 
ing  overtime  last  night, ' '  remarked  the 
Congressman  to  himself. 

' '  I  do  not  wish  to  make  public  what  I 
know  about  Jehu  Baldwin,"  continued 
the  voice  from  Springdale,  '  'because  I 
think  that  some  older  person  put  up  the 
job,  and  has  used  Jehu  merely  as  a  tool; 
but  unless  you  shall  promptly  withdraw 
your  charge  against  Wy cliff,  justice  will 
compel  me  to  make  a  public  announce 
ment." 

"The  charge  will  be  withdrawn  at 
once,"  replied  the  Congressman. 

Baldwin  then  rang  up  the  jail  at  Elm- 
field. 

"Is  this  Sheriff  Coggswell?" 

"It  is." 

"This  is  David  Baldwin.  Is  Wycliff 
under  arrest?" 

154 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

'  '  He  is  not.  He  is  my  guest.  I  shall 
not  arrest  him  unless  the  law  compels  me 
to  do  so,  as  I  have  full  proof  of  his  inno 
cence,  and  of  Jehu  Baldwin's  guilt.  I 
have  a  witness  who  can't  be  bribed  or 
brow-beaten,  and  whose  testimony  would 
stand  against  all  the  Baldwins  that  ever 
lived." 

[Congressman  Baldwin  and  Sheriff 
Coggswell  were  political  enemies.] 

'  'A  pretty  good  witness  that.  Who  is 
he?" 

"I  have  no  right  to  tell  You'll  know 
soon  enough. ' ' 

*  *  I  withdraw  my  charge  against  Wyc- 
liff , ' '  concluded  Baldwin.  And  Ford 
Hulbert  withdrew. 


155 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

DEEP  down  in  a  narrow  gorge  echoed 
the  sound  of  the  miner's  pick. 

"Mr.  Baxter,"  said  Colonel  Lathrop, 
one  of  the  owners  of  the  Rattlesnake 
Mine,  "this  is  too  hot  a  place  for  an  old 
man  like  you.  If  you  are  determined  to 
work  as  long  as  you  live  I've  got  other 
jobs  that  are  easier  for  you  than  swing 
ing  a  pick-axe  in  this  heat  all  day.  You 
know  you  are  not  obliged  to  work.  I'll 
see  you  and  your  wife  well  taken  care  of 
as  long  as  you  live.  You've  done  your 
share  of  the  world's  work.  When  a  man 
reaches  seventy-five  he  ought  to  rest. ' ' 

"I  enjoy  working,"  replied  "Old  Sun 
shine.  ' '  That  was  the  name  he  was  best 
known  by  among  his  fellow-laborers. 
"  It'll  be  time  enough  for  me  to  stop  work 
when  I  have  to.  Even  if  I  have  done 
work  enough,  I  have  not  worked  for  you 
so  long  that  you  can  afford  to  pension 
me  off." 

"Never  mind  that.      I  would  enjoy 

156 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

paying  you  your  wages  better  if  you 
would  quit  mining.  If  you  are  bound  to 
stick  to  the  mines,  why  not  work  in  the 
'drift'  with  the  boys,  where  the  sun  can 
not  hit  you  ?  It '  s  fearfully  hot  out  here. ' ' 

"Now  don't  worry  any  more  about 
me,"  said  Old  Sunshine,  laughing. 
"Don't  you  see  I'm  only  prospecting? 
I  want  to  find  out  what  is  under  the  face 
of  this  cliff." 

"Well,  promise  me  you  will  quit  at 
four  o'clock,  anyway,  Baxter." 

And  Old  Sunshine  reluctantly  prom 
ised. 

"McDonald,"  said  the  Colonel  to  the 
foreman,  as  he  was  leaving  the  mine: 
"Don't  forget  that  Old  Sunshine  is  a 
privileged  character.  I  don't  want  him 
to  work,  and  had  rather  pay  him  for 
resting.  He  has  been  in  the  mines  over 
fifty  years,— was  a  forty-niner, — but  if 
he's  bound  to  work  let  him  take  his  own 
time,  and  come  and  go  when  he  pleases. 
Give  him  full  time,  anyway." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  replied  the  boss. 
"Nobody  will  interfere  with  Old  Sun- 

157 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

shine.  He  does  more  work  now  than 
some  of  the  young  fellows,  if  he  is  sev 
enty-five/' 

Old  Sunshine  had  had  a  checkered  ca 
reer.  More  than  once  he  had  been 
wealthy,  and  that  wealth,  which  some 
times  comes  suddenly  in  the  mines,  had 
flown  as  suddenly  as  it  came.  Had  he 
known  the  right  time  to  stop,  to  turn  his 
mining  investments  into  other  and  more 
stable  securities,  he  might  be  living  in 
luxury  on  his  interest  money.  As  it  was, 
he  was  dependent  upon  his  day's  wages 
at  seventy-five,  and  partly  because  of  his 
independent  spirit,  and  partly  from  his 
robust  health  and  love  of  work,  he  re 
fused  to  let  Colonel  Lathrop  make  life 
easier  for  him. 

It  was  two  o'clock.  Still  the  clink  of 
Old  Sunshine's  pick  sounded  steadily  in 
the  gulch.  The  other  miners  were  work 
ing  in  the  drifts  or  levels.  Still  the  tor 
rid  heat  rained  down  upon  the  solitary 
miner,  upon  the  heated  rocks,  and  upon 
the  rattlesnakes,  the  original  settlers  and 
owners  of  the  gulch. 

158 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Soon  Old  Sunshine's  practiced  eye  told 
him  that  he  was  reaching  a  richer  rock 
than  before.  Near  the  foot  of  the  bank 
he  was  gradually  uncovering  a  broad 
band  of  dull  yellow.  He  knew  what  that 
meant,— one  of  the  richest  veins  he  had 
ever  seen  in  his  half-century  of  gold- 
mining.  Another  man  would  have  drop 
ped  his  pick  and  called  the  other  miners 
to  witness  his  discovery.  But  not  a  word 
from  Old  Sunshine. 

It  was  three  o'clock.  He  began  to 
wield  the  pick-axe  higher  up  the  bank. 
The  material  there  was  soft  or  "rotten 
rock,"  and  at  four  o'clock  he  had  his 
rich  find  at  the  base  of  the  cliff  com 
pletely  hidden  from  sight  with  the  worth 
less  rock  which  he  had  loosened  from 
above. 

"I  promised  the  Colonel  I'd  quit  at 
four  o'clock,"  he  said  to  the  boss  who 
passed  just  then.  "I  suppose  I  must 
keep  my  word." 

"Aye,  aye,  that's  all  right,  Old  Sun 
shine;  perfectly  right.  You've  had  a 
scorcher  here  to-day, ' '  replied  the  boss, 

159 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

without  a  suspicion  of  the  wealth  which 
lay  near  him.  Old  Sunshine  never  gave 
him  a  hint  of  his  find. 

Then  began  the  weary  climb  out  of  the 
gorge.  This  was  the  point  at  which  Old 
Sunshine  most  realized  that  he  was  well 
on  the  down-hill  side  of  life.  He  could 
still  do  a  fair  day's  work,  but  he  could 
not,  as  formerly,  do  a  day's  work  and 
still  have  a  large  reserve  of  strength  left 
over.  He  climbed  awhile,  and  then  sat 
down  to  rest.  Then  he  climbed  again. 
Occasionally  a  serpent  made  way  for 
him,  shaking  his  rattles,  more  as  a 
warning  than  a  threat.  He  reached  his 
own  cabin  at  last. 

"What  brings  you  home  so  early?" 
asked  his  wife. 

''The  Colonel  made  me  promise  to  quit 
early.  He  don't  like  to  have  me  work. 
He  says  he  would  take  care  of  us  and  I 
guess  he  would,  but  I  don't  like  to  let 
him.  Please  get  me  a  lunch  and  then  I 
must  go  down  and  see  the  Colonel. 

"What?    Walk  six  miles  to-night?" 

"Yes,  I  can  do  it;  it  may  make  a  big 

160 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

difference  to  the  Colonel.  After  he  went 
home  I  struck  a  rich  vein,  and  I  want 
him  to  know  it  as  soon  as  possible.  The 
other  miners  do  not  know  it.  Do  not 
tell  them.  I  think  the  vein  runs  off 
across  the  old  'Dead  Open  and  Shut' 
claim.  The  Colonel  can  buy  that  claim 
for  a  few  thousand  dollars  now,  but 
after  this  strike  gets  noised  abroad  he 
may  not  be  able  to  buy  it  at  all  If  I  can 
give  the  Colonel  warning  so  he  can  buy 
the  Dead  Open  and  Shut  claim  cheap,  and 
if  he  makes  a  good  thing  out  of  it,  then 
I  can  accept  a  pension  from  him,  not  as 
charity,  but  as  my  just  due.  Don't  ex 
pect  me  till  morning.  Goodnight." 

Luckily  for  the  old  man  his  journey 
was  almost  all  down  hill.  The  whole 
country  thereabouts  was  a  desert  for  the 
want  of  water.  In  those  small  sections 
where  irrigation  had  been  employed  the 
land  was  very  productive. 

Old  Sunshine  plodded  on.  The  sands 
were  hot.  The  air  was  hotter.  There 
was  little  beside  his  path  to  attract 
attention  except  here  and  there  a  cac- 

161 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

tus  plant.  Beyond  the  distant  moun 
tains,  across  the  valley,  the  sun  was  set 
ting  in  glory.  The  memory  of  the  past 
years,  of  fortunes  he  had  made  and  lost, 
came  to  him  again.  It  was  because  these 
memories  did  not  make  him  gloomy  and 
sour,  but  because  his  hopeful  nature  tri 
umphed  over  them,  that  he  had  won  the 
title  of  Old  Sunshine,  and  none  of  earth's 
monarchs  had  a  grander  title. 

It  began  to  grow  dark  in  the  desert, 
but  the  western  mountain-tops  were  still 
glorious.  And  then  there  came  to  the 
old  man  the  words  which  had  cheered 
him  so  often : 

"At  evening  time  it  shall  be  light." 

The  day  of  his  life  had  been  full  of 
storms.  Would  its  evening  be  peaceful 
and  light? 

Steady  plodding  brought  him  to  Em 
erald  Valley,  or  as  it  was  better  known, 
Lathrop's  Miracle,  a  desert  like  the  rest 
until  the  Colonel's  enterprise  had  made 
it  a  paradise.  He  had  dug  a  canal,  tap 
ping  the  river  miles  above,  and  the  water 
had  turned  the  desert  into  a  very  Eden 

162 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

of  luxuriance.  Everything  which  the 
Colonel  could  grow  brought  a  high  price 
in  the  near-by  mining  camps.  He  had 
spent  many  thousands  of  dollars  in  this 
private  enterprise  of  changing  the  des 
ert  into  a  garden,  and  his  efforts  had 
met  the  success  which  they  deserved. 
Every  dollar  spent  by  Colonel  Lathrop 
in  irrigation  had  returned  to  him  leading 
others  with  it. 

The  Colonel  and  his  family  were  at 
their  evening  meal. 

"If  here  isn't  Old  Sunshine!"  ex 
claimed  little  Daisy  Lathrop. 

4 '  Have  you  walked  all  the  way  from 
the  Rattlesnake?"  asked  the  Colonel. 
''Nothing  wrong  at  the  mine,  I  hope. 
Make  room  at  the  table,  children,  for 
Mr.  Baxter." 

"Nothing  wrong,  Colonel— but  can  I 
see  you  alone  a  few  minutes?" 

"Certainly.  Come  this  way."  The 
Colonel  led  the  way  to  a  room  which  was 
both  office  and  library  to  him. 

"What's  up?"  he  asked. 

' '  I  struck  a  rich  vein  after  you  left, 

163 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

but  I  managed  to  keep  it  hidden  from 
the  other  men.  I  believe  the  vein  runs 
off  across  the  old  Dead  Open  and  Shut 
claim.  I  thought  perhaps  you  would  like 
to  buy  that  claim  before  the  public  gets 
wind  of  the  strike/' 

Old  Sunshine  then  exhibited  specimens 
of  the  gold  which  he  had  found. 

"Of  course  I  can't  say  how  far  the 
vein  extends.  You  will  have  to  take 
your  chances  on  that,  but  it  is  the  richest 
vein  I  have  ever  seen  in  all  my  fifty 
years  of  mining." 

"You're  a  brick,  Old  Sunshine.  I'll 
close  a  bargain  for  the  Dead  Open  and 
Shut  to-night  if  I  can.  Winklereid  tried 
to  sell  it  to  me  today  for  ten  thousand 
dollars.  Here,  Martha,"  he  called  to  his 
wife,  '  'please  take  the  best  care  you  can 
of  our  friend  here.  He  must  be  pretty 
well  used  up." 

In  five  minutes  the  Colonel  was  astride 
his  best  horse  and  galloping  toward  the 
village.  He  dismounted  in  front  of  the 
real  estate  office,  hitched  his  horse,  stood 
still  a  moment  to  cool  down  and  to  brush 

164 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

off  the  appearance  of  hurry  and  excite 
ment,  and  then  entered.  He  seated  him 
self  leisurely  and  began  exchanging  ban 
ter  with  the  loungers  in  the  office. 

Presently  Mr.  Winklereid,  the  real  es 
tate  dealer,  spoke  to  him  : 

"Here's  Mr.  Hammersley,  who  has 
just  bought  the  Coyote  Mine.  I  hope  he 
may  make  a  million  out  of  it.  And  this 
man,"  continued  Winklereid,  waving  his 
hand  toward  Colonel  Lathrop,  '  'can  make 
more  money  out  of  desert  land  and  river 
water  than  anyone  else  in  the  state  can 
make  out  of  gold-mining." 

"All  joking  aside,"  replied  Colonel 
Lathrop,  '  'irrigation  is  a  dead  sure  thing 
when  compared  with  gold-mining,  which 
is  scarcely  better  than  a  lottery." 

"The  Colonel,"  pursued  Mr.  Winkle 
reid,  "is  the  father  of  irrigation  in  this 
state.  For  that  reason,  among  others, 
his  name  is  being  pressed  upon  Governor 
Brown  for  appointment  to  the  United 
States  Senate,  to  succeed  Senator  Smith, 
who  died  the  other  day." 

The  Colonel  did  not  want  to  talk  poli- 

165 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

tics.  After  wishing  Mr.  Hammersley 
success,  he  said  :— 

"Now,  Winklereid,  watch  out  for  a 
little  place  for  me,  near  the  village. 
I  want  a  place  where  a  man  of  seventy- 
five  can  spend  his  remaining  days  in  ease 
and  comfort." 

"I've  got  it  now,"  replied  Winkle 
reid.  ' '  The  very  thing,  snug  and  tidy, 
in  good  repair,  right  in  the  village,  con 
venient  to  everything. ' ' 

1 '  Hold  it  for  me  till  we  can  look  at  it. 
I'm  in  a  hurry  to-night."  And  the  Col 
onel  seemed  on  the  point  of  leaving. 

"You'd  better  take  me  up  on  that 
Dead  Open  and  Shut  bargain,  Colonel. 
It's  worth  more  to  you  than  anyone 
else." 

"  Haven't  I  enough  invested  in  desert 
rocks  already?"  asked  the  Colonel.  "Be 
sides,"  he  continued,  "Wycliff  is  my 
mining  partner.  I  want  him  to  share  my 
chances  of  making  a  dollar  at  mining. 
But  for  his  bravery  I  might  be  poor  to 
day.  How  soon  do  you  want  your 
money?" 

166 


The  Worship  0}  the  Golden  Calf. 

"Pay  me  any  sum  you  please  to-night, 
and  I'll  give  you  a  bond  for  a  deed  be 
fore  you  leave  the  office. ' ' 

"Here's  five  hundred  dollars  I  took  in 
for  cattle  to-day.  I'll  pay  you  the  rest 
in  thirty  days.  Is  that  satisfactory?" 

"Perfectly." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  Colonel  was  gal 
loping  toward  home  with  the  precious 
bond  in  his  pocket. 


167 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SHERIFF  COGGSWELL'S  family 
apartments  were  in  the  front  part 
of  the  jail  building,  and  here  he  enter 
tained  his  old  friend,  Wycliff,  until  the 
notice  came  from  Congressman  Baldwin 
that  he  made  no  charge  against  him. 
Wycliff  then  thanked  the  Sheriff  and  his 
family,  and  walked  out  upon  the  streets 
of  Elmfield,  a  free  man. 

At  the  gateway  of  the  jail-grounds  he 
was  met  by  a  messenger  from  Papyrus 
bearing  a  telegram  from  Colonel  Lath- 
rop  :— 

"  Rich  vein  struck  at  the  Rattlesnake. 
Syndicate  offers  one  million  for  mine. 
Full  particulars  by  letter." 

Wycliff's  acquaintances — and  he  had 
many  among  all  classes  in  Elmfield- 
were  surprised  at  seeing  him  at  large, 
and  congratulations  and  inquiries  were 
of  frequent  occurence.  But  he  saw  some 
thing  which  made  him,  for  the  moment, 
unconscious  of  the  attentions  of  friend  or 

168 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

foe, — a  pretty  pony,  drawing  a  cart  in 
which  were  several  children. 

Wycliff  stopped  suddenly.  His  mem 
ory  went  back  to  a  scene  in  a  sick-room 
not  many  months  before,  and  to  a  prom 
ise  which  he  had  forgotten.  For  a  time 
he  had  been  unable  to  keep  the  promise. 
Recently  he  had  been  able  to  keep  his 
promise,  but  had  forgotten  it.  He  wan 
dered  down  the  main  street  of  Elmfield, 
and  then  off  down  a  side  street,  to  a  liv 
ery  and  sale  stable. 

"Do  you  keep  those  little  ponies,  such 
as  children  drive?"  he  asked  the  propri 
etor,  an  old  acquaintance. 

"No,  there  is  too  little  call  for  them, 
but  I  order  them  when  wanted.  Do  you 
want  one?" 

' '  Yes,  a  perfectly  gentle  and  safe  one, 
as  my  boy  is  not  very  strong.  I  am  go 
ing  over  to  Cook's  for  a  cart,  and  to 
Brandon's  for  a  harness.  Please  send 
the  pony  to  Brandon's  to  be  fitted  with 
a  harness ;  get  the  cart,  and  send  the 
outfit  to  my  place,  ready  for  use." 

When  these  purchases  had  been  made, 

169 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

Wycliff  called  upon  his  attorney,  Lawyer 
Sturgis.  An  hour  later  Sheriff  Coggs- 
well  was  posting  up  a  notice  of  attach 
ment  in  the  Monadnock,  the  principal 
hotel  of  Elmfield.  As  Zechariah  Bald 
win  owned  both  the  Elmfield  Star  and 
the  Hotel  Monadnock,  the  hotel  could  be 
lawfully  attached  for  the  misdeeds  of  the 
newspaper,  while  Massachusetts  Law  in 
a  measure  protects  the  newspaper  plant 
from  attachment. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  asked  the 
manager  of  the  hotel. 

' '  It  means, ' '  replied  the  smiling  sher 
iff,  '  'that  those  who  dance  must  pay  the 
fiddler/'  and  straightway  he  started  for 
the  "Paper  Town,"  to  serve  personal 
notice  upon  the  Lord  of  Papyrus  him 
self.  Sheriff  Coggswell  was  the  only 
Berkshire  officer  who  was  independent 
of  the  Baldwins — the  only  one  who  did 
not  acknowledge  the  political  authority 
of  Congressman  Baldwin,  the  political 
boss  of  the  County  and  State.  Conse 
quently  he  fully  enjoyed  the  present 
situation. 

170 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

The  case  against  Zechariah  Baldwin 
came  up  in  the  Superior  Court,  a  little 
later,  for  trial.  Wycliff,  the  plaintiff, 
was  ready  to  proceed  with  the  case.  The 
defendant,  through  his  attorney,  pleaded 
for  delay. 

Judge  Selden,  after  hearing  both  at 
torneys  patiently,  ordered  an  immediate 
trial. 

"  The  defendant  in  this  case,"  said  the 
Judge,  "has,  through  his  newspaper, 
charged  the  plaintiff  with  a  very  serious 
crime— assault  with  intent  to  kill.  If  he 
had  sufficient  evidence  to  warrant  him  in 
making  such  charge,  in  such  a  public 
manner,  he  has  sufficient  evidence  for 
defending  this  action,  without  delay. ' ' 

Then  Baldwin's  attorney,  Lawyer  Stim- 
son,  requested  time  to  effect  a  settlement 
out  of  court.  This  was  granted. 

Only  the  attorneys  for  the  two  parties 
met.  There  was  good  reason  for  this, 
since  a  meeting  of  the  principals  would 
only  have  resulted  in  a  wordy  encounter, 
with  nothing  accomplished  at  last  in  the 
way  of  settlement.  One  could  scarcely 

171 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

imagine  any  business  of  this  nature  ac 
complished  between  two  men  who  so 
thoroughly  detested  one  another  as  did 
Zechariah  Baldwin  and  John  Wycliff. 
Nor  would  the  settlement  have  fared 
any  better  if  the  Baldwin  end  of  the  ne 
gotiations  had  been  left  with  Deacon 
Surface,  since  Wycliff  regarded  him  as 
an  arch-hypocrite,  and  he,  in  his  turn, 
was  looked  upon  as  an  outlaw  by  the 
Deacon. 

''Well,  Sturgis,"  began  the  attorney 
for  Baldwin,  '  'your  client  seems  to  value 
his  reputation  pretty  highly.  It  is  not 
often  that  an  attachment  for  one  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars  is  placed  in  an 
action  of  this  kind." 

"You  forget,  Stimson,"  Lawyer  Stur 
gis  replied,  "that  these  millionaires  think 
a  good  deal  of  themselves,  whatever  value 
the  public  may  set  upon  them.  Since 
Wycliff  is  rated  a  millionaire,  I  presume 
he  regards  himself  as  not  being  on  the 
bargain-counter  any  longer,  but  fit  to 
have  his  reputation  rated  with  that  of 
the  Baldwins.  In  the  famous  Apthorp 

172 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

case  you  pleaded,  with  abundant  reason, 
that  the  reputation  of  a  millionaire  was 
worth  more  than  that  of  a  poor  man." 

Then,  seeing  a  puzzled  expression  on 
the  face  of  his  brother  attorney,  Lawyer 
Sturgis  continued:— 

"  Perhaps  you  have  not  read  all  the 
latest  news  from  the  gold  fields.  The 
syndicate  has  raised  its  offer  for  the 
Rattlesnake  Mine  to  two  million  dollars. " 

''But  how  does  that  affect  this  ques 
tion?"  asked  Stimson,  who  was  still  in 
the  dark. 

* '  John  Wycliff  is  a  half  owner  in  the 
Rattlesnake  mine. ' ' 

"  That  makes  a  difference." 

"Wycliff  would  prefer  to  have  this 
case  go  to  court.  He  would  like  to  show 
up  these  immaculate  Baldwins  —  these 
Christian  philanthropists— in  their  true 
attitude  toward  labor.  Only  one  reason 
impels  him  to  a  private  settlement.  Je 
hu  Baldwin,  who  would  be  shown  up  as 
the  principal  transgressor,  is  little  more 
than  a  boy,  and  less  to  blame  than  his 
father  who  set  him  on, ' '  said  Sturgis. 

173 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"But,"  protested  Stimson,  "are  you 
not  taking  a  great  deal  for  granted  on 
very  slight  evidence?" 

' '  By  no  means, ' '  replied  Sturgis.  '  'We 
have  full  proof  of  every  step  of  this 
whole  crime,  from  the  time  when  Zecha- 
riah  Baldwin,  on  his  own  premises,  per 
suaded  his  son  Jehu  to  set  this  trap  for 
Wycliff,  until  the  instant  when  Jehu 
Baldwin  threw  his  pistol  upon  Wy cliff's 
lawn.  A  kind  Providence,  more  than 
his  own  exertions,  has  placed  full  proof 
in  my  client's  possession.  You  and  I, 
Stimson,  are  both  too  old,  and  have  won 
too  honorable  a  place  at  the  Berkshire  Bar 
to  indulge  in  a  game  of  bluff,  and  I  have 
something  here  which  will  convince  you 
that  I  am  not  bluffing. ' ' 

He  opened  his  safe,  and  took  from  it  a 
photograph. 

"Do  you  recognize  anything  in  that 
picture?" 

"Yes,  that  is  Dobbs'  Corner,  in  Papy 
rus.  The  guide-board  tells  the  story. 
'Elmfield,  six  miles;  Sprucemont,  nine 
miles;  Wendell,  five  miles.'  And  that 

174 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

old  elm— there's  no  mistaking  that.     I 
was  out  there  in  my  auto  yesterday. ' ' 
"But  the  person?" 

* '  Looks  like  Jehu  Baldwin,  surely,  and 
the  pistol  still  in  his  hand.  But  here's 
an  important  point  which  you  might  be 
troubled  to  prove.  How  can  you  prove 
that  this  flash-light— for  a  flash-light 
photo  it  is,  evidently — was  taken  on  the 
night  which  you  claim?  If  we  assert 
that  it  was  secured  on  some  other  night 
than  the  one  of  the  riot,  you  cannot 
prove  that  it  was  taken  on  that  identical 
night." 

"Easily  enough,  Stimson.  Do  you 
see  nothing  else  in  the  picture?" 

"Yes,  some  sort  of  a  machine,  or 
wagon,  with  the  word  'Vesuvius'  on  it." 

"  Very  well,"  laughed  Sturgis,  "that 
new  Vesuvius  road  machine  spent  only 
that  one  night  in  Papyrus.  It  was  taken 
on  trial,  proved  unsatisfactory,  and  was 
next  day  returned  to  Elmfield  and  ex 
changed  for  another. ' ' 

' '  But  you  are  not  going  to  exact  the 
whole  pound  of  flesh,  the  whole  hundred 

175 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

thousand?"  asked  Lawyer  Stimson. 
Not  if  you  will  do  the  fair  thing.  If 
the  Star  will  publish  a  suitable  retrac 
tion  of  its  charge  against  Wycliff ,  and  an 
admission  that  the  attack  upon  Con 
gressman  Baldwin  was  part  of  a  conspi 
racy  to  drive  Wycliff  out  of  town,  then 
we  will  cut  our  claim  to  ten  thousand 
dollars.  Otherwise  we  shall  insist  on  the 
whole  sum/' 

"I  think  Zack  Baldwin  had  rather  pay 
the  whole  demand  than  to  make  the  ac 
knowledgement  you  ask/'  said  Stimson. 

"So  do  I,"  responded  Sturgis.  "I 
never  knew  a  Baldwin  to  acknowledge 
an  injustice  he  had  done,  or  to  make  any 
compensation  for  it  unless  obliged  to  do 
so  by  law,  and  being  multi-millionaires, 
they  cannot  usually  be  compelled  to  do 
justly.  Senator  Dawes,  the  greatest  ad 
vocate  that  ever  faced  a  Berkshire  jury, 
in  describing  a  particularly  mean  man, 
once  coined  the  expression,  'natural 
cussedness.'  I  suppose  that  the  ortho 
dox  term,  'total  depravity, '  would  have 
sounded  more  smoothly,  but  smoothness 

176 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

was  not  what  the  great  Senator  was  af 
ter.  When  I  think  of  the  great  conspi 
racy  against  my  client  I  cannot  help  us 
ing  the  words  of  the  Senator.  Natural 
cussedness  is  a  proper  term  to  apply  to 
the  meanness  of  Zack  Baldwin.  The 
words  fit." 

' '  You  are  rather  uncharitable  toward 
my  client,  are  you  not?"  asked  Stimson, 
laughing,  and  stepping  to  a  window. 
Lawyer  Sturgis'  office  was  on  the  upper 
floor  of  the  highest  block  in  the  city  of 
Elmfield,  and  commanded  a  fine  view  of 
the  city. 

''Come  here,  Sturgis,"  said  the  other, 
and  Sturgis  stepped  to  the  window. 
''There  is  a  side  of  Zechariah  Baldwin's 
character  which  you  do  not  appreciate. 
There  is  the  finest  gift  ever  made  to 
the  city.  Who  gave  that  splendid  build 
ing  to  Elmfield?" 

Before  them  stood  the  Elmfield  Public 
Library,  given  to  the  city  by  the  Honor 
able  Zechariah  Baldwin  and  representing, 
with  its  contents,  an  expenditure  of  more 
than  half  a  million  dollars. 

177 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

"You  will  probably  think  me  a  crank, 
Stimson,"  Sturgis  replied,  "but  I  believe 
the  half  million  dollars  put  into  that  build 
ing  had  better  have  gone  to  the  Baldwin 
employees.  One  thousand  each,  in  cash 
or  in  a  home,  to  five  hundred  workmen, 
would  have  done  more  good  than  half  a 
million  in  this  palatial  building,  in  my 
way  of  thinking.  It  would  be  nearer 
just. 

'  'The  very  fact  that  the  Baldwins  have 
been  able,  through  the  labor  of  others, 
in  the  paper  industry,  to  pile  up  millions 
and  tens  of  millions,  for  themselves  and 
their  descendants,  while  incidentally  giv 
ing  a  few  millions  in  so-called  charity, 
this  very  fact,  I  say,  is  evidence  that  they 
might  have  paid  their  workmen  more  lib 
erally.  I  tell  you,  Stimson,  the  time  is 
coming,  though  you  and  I  may  not  live 
to  see  it,  when  the  lion's  share  of  the 
profits  in  any  industry  will  go,  not  to  the 
employer,  but  to  the  worker.  To  accom 
plish  this  it  may  be  necessary  for  the 
government  to  become  the  employer." 

"Isn't  that  socialism?"  asked  the  smil- 

178 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

ing  Stimson  of  his  brother  of  the  Bar. 
"I  believe  that  there  is  something  vi 
tally  wrong,"  replied  Sturgis,  "in  a  sys 
tem  which  permits  the  employer  to  pile 
up  millions,  tens  of  millions,  and  even 
hundreds  of  millions  of  dollars,  while 
the  workman,  who  is  making  these  mil 
lions  for  him,  often  receives  only  a  bare 
living,  and  frequently  has  nothing  left 
for  old  age.  With  apologies  to  Patrick 
Henry,  if  this  be  socialism,  make  the 
most  of  it.  Let  me  remind  you  of  a 
very  prominent  illustration  of  our  pres 
ent  system.  Our  government  framed  its 
tariff  laws  for  the  special  benefit  of  the 
iron  and  steel  industry,  it  being  claimed 
that  such  laws  would  especially  benefit 
the  workingmen  in  that  industry.  Who 
received  the  benefit?  More  than  two 
hundred  millions  of  dollars  were  piled 
up  in  the  hands  of  one  man,  who  is  now 
trying  to  unload  these  millions  upon  the 
public  libraries  of  the  country.  Without 
denying  the  benefit  of  public  libraries, 
that  two  hundred  millions  should  most 
of  it  have  gone  to  the  workingmen  who 

179 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

created  that  wealth.  Give  the  working- 
men  of  America  their  just  dues,  and 
there  will  be  no  need  of  private  gifts  to 
libraries.  Every  community  will  be 
abundantly  able  to  build  its  own  library, 
and  that  will  be  better  than  accepting 
gifts  from  men  whose  wealth  rightly 
belongs  to  the  people." 

' '  Would  you  deny  the  right  of  private 
property?"  asked  Stimson. 

"The  right  of  private  property,  when 
grossly  abused,  must  give  way  to  some 
thing  higher,— the  public  good." 

1 '  If  I  stay  longer  I  shall  miss  another 
appointment,"  said  Stimson.  "Your 
client  will  probably  receive  a  check 
soon."  And  Stimson  withdrew. 


180 


CHAPTER  XV. 

JOHN  WYCLIFF  had  made  his  plans 
for  remaining  in  Papyrus.  Zeeha- 
riah  Baldwin  had  paid  the  full  amount 
of  John  Wy cliff's  legal  demands.  The 
latter,  through  the  agency  of  his  friend, 
Ford  Hulbert,  had  purchased  the  Van 
Alstyne  estate,  comprising  the  old  Van 
Alstyne  homestead,  numerous  tenements 
located  in  different  parts  of  the  town, 
and  several  hundred  acres  of  land  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town.  It  was  the  largest 
piece  of  real  estate  in  Papyrus,  except 
the  Wesson  Mills,  which  the  all-devour 
ing  Baldwins  had  not  secured. 

Scarcely  had  Wycliff  moved  his  family 
into  the  old  Van  Alstyne  homestead, 
when  all  his  plans  were  upset  by  a  letter 
from  Colonel  Lathrop,  proposing  that  he 
remove  to  Emerald  Valley,  and  giving 
very  substantial  reasons  for  such  propo 
sal.  The  Colonel  wrote  in  part:— 

''Senator  Smith  recently  died,  and 
Governor  Brown  offers  me  the  appoint- 

181 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

ment  to  the  U.  S.  Senate  until  the  Legis 
lature  meets,  when  it  is  reasonably  sure 
that  it  will  elect  me  for  the  remainder  of 
Senator  Smith's  unexpired  term.  Of 
course  you  will  see  the  wisdom  of  hav 
ing  one  of  the  owners  of  the  Rattlesnake 
Mine  resident  here.  I  am  not  a  states 
man.  I  am  not  much  of  a  politician,  ex 
cept  that,  in  a  large  measure,  I  have 
footed  the  bills  of  my  party  here.  My 
claims  upon  the  people  are  two:  First, 
as  the  father  of  irrigation  in  this  region. 
Second,  in  partnership  with  yourself,  as 
one  of  the  owners  of  the  leading  gold 
mine  in  this  section. 

"I  should  like  to  spend  a  year  in  the 
Millionaires'  Club,  at  Washington,  and 
obtain  the  title  of  U.  S.  Senator  for  my 
old  age.  The  Rattlesnake  Mine,  which 
now  includes  the  Dead  Open  and  Shut, 
is  forging  rapidly  to  the  front  of  all  gold- 
mining  properties  in  the  West,  and  there 
is  scarcely  a  doubt  that  after  I  have  com 
pleted  the  late  Senator  Smith's  term,  you 
could  be  elected  to  succeed  me.  Money 
makes  senators,  and  this  is  as  true  of 

182 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

the  East  as  of  the  West  in  these  days. 

"I  remember,  as  a  young  man,  you 
used  to  be  proud  of  New  England.  You 
used  to  speak  of  the  New  England  love 
of  fair  play,  and  you  would  grow  elo 
quent  in  praise  of  the  New  England 
conscience.  Haven't  you  had  enough 
of  New  England  fair  play?  Do  you 
want  more  of  it? 

' '  I  saw  a  leading  Abolitionist  dragged 
through  the  streets  of  Boston.  I  learned 
then  where  the  New  England  conscience 
was,  and  is.  It  was,  and  is,  inside  the 
New  England  pocket-book.  Had  slavery 
been  profitable  in  New  England  we 
should  not  have  had  the  Civil  War,  and 
slavery  would  still  be  an  American  insti 
tution.  I  fought  in  that  war,  but  I  can 
not  close  my  eyes  to  the  truth.  There 
were  soldiers  under  my  command,  who, 
as  Northern  laborers,  were  more  to  be 
pitied  than  the  slaves  on  the  better  class 
of  Southern  plantations. 

"I  remember  a  young  man— (do  you 
remember  him?) — who  was  a  great  ad 
mirer  of  the  Springdale  Democrat,  which 

183 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

has  been  called  the  New  England  Bible. 
It  is  eloquent,  in  season  and  out  of  sea 
son,  in  advocating  equal  rights  for  the 
Southern  negro  and  the  Filipino,  but 
never  asks  equal  rights  for  the  mill-hands 
of  Papyrus.  It  does  not  hesitate  to  criti 
cise  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
but  its  millionaire  idol,  Congressman 
Baldwin,  is  exempt  from  criticism.  Can 
you  defend  this  course? 

Let  me  urge  one  consideration  which 
cannot  fail  to  have  weight  with  you. 
Your  physician  will  tell  you,  much  better 
than  I  can,  that  your  son's  chances  of  liv 
ing  to  a  vigorous  manhood  will  be  much 
improved  by  coming  here.  Here,  in  all 
probability,  he  would  reach  a  rugged 
maturity,  and  here  is  the  mining  property 
with  which  he  should  become  familiar, 
as  he  must  some  day,  in  the  natural  course 
of  events,  bear  a  part  in  its  manage 
ment/' 

Wycliff  had  scarcely  finished  reading 
this  letter  to  his  wife,  when  she  said:— 

;'  There  are  Eva  Baldwin  and  Ralph 
Cutter,  apparently  coming  here."  Only 

184 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

a  few  days  before  had  the  newspapers 
announced  the  couple's  engagement. 

"I  am  told,"  said  Miss  Baldwin,  "that 
you  own  the  territory  to  the  northward, 
known  as  the  Wilderness.  There  are 
reasons,  purely  sentimental,  why  I  would 
like  to  purchase  a  portion  of  it,  including 
Pulpit  Rock.  Would  you  sell  it?" 

"I  had  not  intended  to  sell,"  replied 
Wycliff.  "I  had  thought  of  making  a 
sheep-range  of  it.  At  the  same  time  I 
intended  making  paths  through  it,  as  our 
Robert  needs  just  the  exercise  which  he 
could  get  there.  However,  if  the  posses 
sion  of  a  portion  of  it  would  give  pleasure 
to  you,  I  suppose  that  I  ought  to  sell,  pro 
vided  my  wife  agrees." 

"I  have  no  objection, "  said  Mrs.  Wyc 
liff.  '  'It  seems  to  me  that  the  Wilderness 
is  large  enough  to  accommodate  both  of 
us." 

'  'We  shall  probably  soon  go  West  for  a 
time, ' '  said  Wycliff,  '  'but  my  agent,  Ford 
Hulbert,  will  attend  to  the  matter.  I 
think  that  you  and  he  will  have  no  diffi 
culty.  I  believe  the  day  will  come,  al- 

185 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

though  not  in  our  time,  when  there  will 
be  no  private  ownership  of  land,  it  is 
subject  to  so  many  abuses. " 

'  'Amen, ' '  exclaimed  Ralph  Cutter.  ' '  I 
believe  that  the  Lord  made  this  earth  for 
the  enjoyment  of  all  his  people,  not  to 
have  its  blessings  monopolized  by  a  fav 
ored  few.  Government  ownership  of 
land  must  come,  I  believe,  although  you 
and  I  will  probably  not  live  to  see  it." 

A  little  later  Miss  Boardman  and  Ford 
Hulbert  drove  up.  "I  don't  know  what 
you  will  think  of  Lena,"  said  the  gentle 
man.  ''She  seems  to  be  getting  ambi 
tious,  wants  me  to  buy  of  you  one  of  the 
peaks  of  Twin  Mountain  for  a  summer 
residence.  I  am  afraid  you  will  not  care 
to  sell." 

1  'It  seems  likely,"  said  Wycliff ,  "that 
we  shall  go  west  to  look  after  our  mining 
property,  leaving  everything  here  in  your 
care.  I  hope  we  may  be  able  to  return 
occasionally.  If  we  ever  build  on  Twin 
Mountain,  I  think  one  peak  will  be  ample 
for  our  use,  will  it  not?"  he  asked,  ad 
dressing  his  wife. 

186 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

' '  I  hope  we  may  be  able  to  spend  some 
time  here  each  summer, "  Mrs.  Wycliff 
replied.  ' '  If  we  ever  do  build  on  Twin 
Mountain  it  will  be  very  pleasant  to  have 
you  there  for  neighbors." 

When  they  had  gone  Uncle  Jerry  Barn- 
aby  came  to  give  an  account  of  his  stew 
ardship  of  Twin  Mountain  Farm.  He 
seemed  to  be  hardly  the  same  person  as 
the  woe-begone,  long-faced  man  they 
had  once  known. 

''How  is  your  daughter?"  asked  Mrs. 
Wycliff. 

' '  You  never  saw  such  a  change  in  any 
one/'  said  Uncle  Jerry.  "Pet  is  hardly 
the  same  woman  that  she  was  when  she 
left  Papyrus." 

"What  has  done  it?  Our  mountain 
air?" 

"I  don't  wish  to  run  down  our  moun 
tain  air;  the  fact  is,  I've  seen  the  time 
when  you  couldn't  run  it  down  with  an 
express  train.  But  givin'  the  mountain 
air  all  the  credit  that  belongs  to  it,  still 
it's  those  letters  from  Oregon  that  have 
saved  Pet.  It's  the  old,  old  story,  —  "Tis 

187 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

love  that  makes  the  world  go  'round/ 

''When  that  first  letter  came  to  Pet, 
from  'way  up  in  the  great  Northwest,  it 
made  a  little  spot  of  color  on  Pet's  cheeks 
just  about  as  big  as  the  first  bit  of  color 
that  shows  in  a  rosebud,  and  that  spot,  or 
that  pair  of  spots,  have  been  growin'  big 
ger  ever  since  till  now  the  roses  are  pretty 
much  full-blown." 

''When  is  he  coming?" 

"In  a  fortnight." 

"And  then?" 

' '  They  will  be  married,  and  go  to  his 
home  in  the  Oregon  woods.  Pet  always 
did  like  the  woods,  and  she'll  have  woods 
a  plenty  there.  He  has  hundreds  of  acres 
of  forest." 

' '  Pop, "  said  Robbie  later,  as  he  climbed 
on  to  his  father's  knees,  by  the  window, 
"see  that  pretty  pony  and  little  cart 
coming  down  the  street.  Say,  Pop,  when 
I  was  so  sick  did  you  promise  me  a  pony 
and  a  cart,  or  did  I  dream  it?" 

"I  promised,"  replied  the  father,  but 
now  the  pony  and  cart  were  at  the  door. 

Still  later  a  very  tired  boy  was  resting 

188 


The  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf. 

comfortably  in  his  kind  father's  arms. 

"Pop,"  he  said,  "are  we  really  and 
truly  rich?" 

"It  looks  like  that,"  replied  the  father, 
"but  I  was  rich  before." 

"How  is  that?"  asked  the  boy. 

"Please  bring  me  that  old  scrap-book, 
Robbie." 

The  boy  brought  it,  and  the  father  read 
aloud  these  lines:  — 

' '/  have  thought  myself  poor  since  God  withheld 

From  me  His  lands  and  gold, 
Forgetting  that  some  of  his  gifts  excelled 

Mere  wealth  a  thousandfold. 

'  'For  what  is  the  wealth  of  the  teeming  fields 

Beside  thy  love,  wife  mine? 
And  measured  by  joy  a  child's  love  yields 

What  worth  is  a  golden  mine?" 


THE  END. 


189 


French,  C. 

B*         ^  -n," 

not          ^ 

The   wors 

crnlden  oal 

hip  of  the 

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» 

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YCI03 


M126786 


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